[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

[gainedlove]

[They look up again at the sound, and Sans's question rattles around in their mind. Is there somewhere else they should be? It's so hard to think past the buzzing pressure of grief and hurt, a confusing kettle of emotion that makes Frisk just want to curl up and hide.]

[There's only one answer that makes sense right now.] ...I wanna go back.

[skelepun]

To your room?

[It's not the right answer. Sans knows that. It's clear he knows that, from the level look in his eyesockets. And it's doubly clear that there's no going back, not to where Frisk wants to go.

He's already walked that line himself, too many times.]

You're free to, kiddo. Nothing keeping you here.

[gainedlove]

[It's a slow thing, the way their expression crumples. Bit by bit the strength falls away, and the ache in their chest becomes so painful Frisk can barely breathe. It's not fair...it's not fair at all! Why does it have to end like this? With everyone dead, Sans hurting, and Chara...]

[Frisk curls up again, their head pressing tightly to their knees as their quiet sobs fill the silent room. But one arm unwinds uncertainly from their legs and reaches through the bars blindly for Sans, desperate for some form of support.]

[skelepun]

Kid...

[Sans felt the scrabble of a small hand against his jacket and a fresh wave of fresh exhaustion rolled over him. There's a neediness there, a desire for something Sans couldn't place or even give.]

Quit torturing yourself, alright? [He meant that, too.] Go find my bro, he'll be psyched to see you.

[gainedlove]

[That tight grip on his jacket trembles, then falls slack as the tiny hand drops to the floor between them. Sniffles and hiccups shakes Frisk's shoulders, and it's a few moments before they find the strength to push themself back up to their feet.]

[They don't dare to look at Sans right now--Frisk knows what he must think of them, and they can't take seeing that on top of everything else. With their arms wrapped around their middle, the small child slowly makes their way back out of the hold without a single look back.]