thisavrou_log | in the words of thomas jefferson, "what'd i miss?"

Who: Sans & YOU
When: The 24th, spanning from early in the morning to the evening
Where: All around the ship
What: Sans is back! It is unclear to him at this point what "back" means, both for him and for everyone else.
Warnings: Alcohol (er, well, ketchup, but y'know), Undertale spoilers out the wazoo

Groggy doesn't begin to describe. Sans knows groggy, like any guy who spends most of his life exactly that. No, this feels as if someone methodically stuffed his skull with cotton until it was fit to crack.

In other words, he has a headache.

Rolling up out of (bed? If it was, it looked more clinical than comfortable) wherever he was, Sans took a moment to take stock of his surroundings. For one, he wasn't dead. Guess the kid finally reset after all, and further back than he expected. To that point, there are his memories to consider. Much like the first time he awoke after death on the Moira, his memories were all exactly where he left them. The feeling of disintegrating, the indescribable expression on the kid's face, the slice of their knife...

No, not knife. Cup. It was a cup this time. Heh. What a way to go.

Yawning, Sans shakes out the last of his stiffness. One of the upsides to losing your memories each reset was blending in. When your brain simply reloaded, it knew exactly what to do and where to be. Like this, Sans has no idea what day it is, let alone if he's got a mess duty or not.

And people wonder why he takes such relish in laziness. It makes for great cover when the world decides to rewind and leave you stranded.

Papyrus would know -- he always knows exactly where Sans is supposed to be and how late he is getting there. With a bounce in his step, Sans steps outside with the intention of finding his brother.

closed to papyrus; outside cryo

He doesn't have to look very far.

"... Bro?"

Papyrus is parked outside the cryo lab, deliriously going over a puzzle book. The page he's on appears to have already been solved... twice? No, three times. Incorrectly, correctly, and then incorrectly again. Huh. For once, his little brother's superior perception seems at a loss -- he doesn't appear to notice Sans' presence at all.

Leaning against a wall, Sans is content to watch for a while -- though his smile can't help tightening when he notices just how out of sorts Papyrus looks.

"Figure out this page many more times and you'll need an upgrade to the senior scramble, bro."

ota; around cryo/halls/nomo deck

Parting ways with his brother, Sans rubs at his eye socket. The exchange was... bizarre, even for the two of them. All the component parts were right, but they wouldn't fit together. His brother scolded him for his laziness, encouraged him to shake a leg to work, talked at length about his exploits around the ship...

All together, it should be normal. But then Sans thinks about how he fell asleep right there against the wall, how tired he looked before that, how bone deep his exhaustion seemed to penetrate, and it's not right. Something happened, and Papyrus isn't telling him. Then again, he didn't ask. They really were the poster children of talking about their feelings, weren't they.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, brow bone furrowed deep in thought, Sans makes his way in the direction of his room. Maybe he could find some answers there about where the reset spat him out...

closed to miles; his office

Welp.

Welp.

Sans doesn't bother mincing words. He doesn't bother walking, either, teleporting with careless agility. It's a miracle he doesn't wind up in another wall.

"Miles!" He barks, in a tone entirely unlike any Miles (or, well, most people) has heard from him. "I know you're in there, I can hear you being smug from out here."

closed to roomies; nomo deck

It couldn't have been more than half a day since Sans woke up. Revived? Jeez, this was a mess. And despite reality, it feels like thirty years by the time Sans drags himself into his bedroom. It's cleaner than he remembers. But then again, why wouldn't it be, his roommates have had more than enough time to adjust to life without him. Won't they be disappointed.

No, that was mean. Sans takes a moment to regard his bunk. Someone went to the trouble of making it (by who, he can't be sure -- well, no, he's sure it wasn't J), and Sans feels a tinge of regret as he promptly messes it up again.

One veggie burrito, heavy on the calcium, coming right up.

ota; gardens

Things don't really start to sink in until he looks his blueprints. Even then, they don't sink so much as tie an anchor around his middle and hurl him overboard.

He needs to be alone.

A step, a quick calculation, and he gets his wish.

The tree in the garden is tall, but Sans never appreciated how tall until finding himself perched at the top of its canopy. The trees are sparse and thin enough up here to be dangerous, but Sans doesn't weigh much to begin with. And even if they did snap, would it matter?

It would, his mind reminds him, it would matter more than it has in a long, long time.

No, Sans decides. He's not going to think about that. He's going to go through all the tree jokes he knows until he's either laughing or asleep.

What did the tree wear to the pool party? Swimming trunks.

(There are no resets. There might never be another reset.)

What did the beaver say to the tree? It's been nice gnawing ya.

(Time marches on here, with or without you -- no, with you, because they'll keep bringing you back and taking pieces until there's nothing left. No more do-overs, not for you, or him, or them, or anyone.)

How do you identify a dogwood tree? By its bark.

(You can't afford not to care anymore, but do you even remember how to care? To really try?)

Why did the tree get a timeout? It was being knotty.

"Heh... knotty." Sans chuckles from on high, oblivious to anyone below his perch. "Gotta use that."

[ ooc: i'll match action or prose, gimme whatcha got! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

So much said with one little word. Sans hefted a sigh, shrinking down against the wall. He's a small man on a good day, but now there's a diminished quality to him that makes him even smaller.

"Kid, it's a long story, and you've got a lot on your plate. And I've never talked about this." Sans pauses a beat, quickly clarifying. "Miles knows a bit, but just the mechanics. That's all he wanted to know, but something tells me you care a lot less about the mechanics."

And a lot more about me, Sans leaves unsaid. Papyrus gave him laser focused attention sometimes, but he was an expert at deflecting that. Lara would be a lot harder to shake. He's not sure how prepared he is for that.

"I need some time. This is all really new. But I'll do you a deal." He looked up, shedding the momentary vulnerability for his usual grin. "We get rid of that skeleton in your closet and I'll buy you a drink and tell you the whole story. Capiche?"

Edited 2016-03-06 03:50 (UTC)

"I care about you." An absolute truth. One she is so certain of, not even the still persistent whispering of the Not-Sans can disrupt her hold on it. She hasn't said it before outright, at least not unprompted by his own affection. She forgets to do that at times (truly her father's daughter...), but now, when he looks so small, she needs him to know that.

She blows out a breath, "All right. But I'm holding to you to that." And maybe she'll go bother Miles for a few details in between. In the meantime, her eyes cut to where the spector is standing, snarling. "...It hurts less, now, to be honest with you."

The sentiment melts over him, making his magic glow just a bit brighter. Monsters are weird. Love, compassion, hope, all of it was essential to keeping them in one piece. You lose that, you let your hope dwindle to nothing, you fall down. From there, it's only a matter of time until you turn to dust.

Sans leaned a little harder against Lara, squeezing the arm around her to match it. He would swear he had just a little more Hope than before. Even if it went back to one before too long, the brief burst of strength is... nice.

"M'glad it hurts less. 'Cuz..." He looked up from where he was holding her, not bothering to downplay his own protectiveness. A pure hallucination was one thing, and maybe that's all this was, but Sans trusted Lara. If she said it felt different, Sans believed her. And if there's even a small chance the specter could see him, well...

He'd better get it through his skull that Sans wasn't going to sit idly by. For once.

"I care about you too, kiddo."

Lara leans right into him, letting her head drop again. Closing her eyes for just a moment, because the relief is nearly overwhelming. Where Sans' is looking there flicker of... Something. Red and incandescent for just a moment, like flame flaring up from nothing, angry and alive and then gone in the next. The place in the hall isn't suddenly more empty, but there is a strange lack of something that wasn't there before.

One battle is not a war won.

The thought is an idle one, almost not her own, but she ignores it and leans back, rubbing away the last of the tear tracks on her cheeks. "We ought to get up before someone trips over us."

"Heh, good call." Sans' bones creak and crack as he stands, popping a few of his vertebrae with a sound stretch. The sounds are so normal to Sans at this point, he hardly considers them bothering anyone else.

"I've got an idea -- let's get you to your room. You look exhausted."

"I've gotten better," Lara insists. She moves a little more slowly when she stands, a little clumsy now that the emotional high has run it's course. "I've slept."

Sans follows suit, looking both unconvinced and unwilling to press the issue. Lara was an adult, after all, albeit one that worried him on a pretty regular basis.

"... If you're sure, sweetheart. I'm not gonna force ya."

The look she gives him is entierly fond. Weeks of the familiar voice wearing her down and it's a relief to hear him, really hear him. She reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder, careful and light, but mostly to prove he's here and real.

"I've missed you." Had she said that already? "I'd like... I don't want to sleep just yet." The two are connected.

"I missed you too, L." Had he said that already? Man, already his mind was turning to fuzz -- too sharp and yet foggy. It's not a feeling Sans enjoys, but the company does much to dull that particular discomfort.

"Do you have work later or are you done for the day?"

She shakes her head, "No, I'm done for today."

A soft, flutter of a smile when she looks back at him, "Are you?"

"Unfortunately." Sans sighs, finally getting to his feet. "No. I'm not."

Not for work in the traditional sense, of course, but work all the same. Sans looks down the hall in the vague direction of Miles' office. Lara's determination was always something Sans was all too aware of, pulsating in here even when she was at her weakest. It's a dim theory, but one he'd have to test with yet another determined individual.

He looks back to Lara, trying for sheepish and comically bashful and landing closer to just... tired.

"Meet up later when I'm done?"

She nods immediately, "I'd like that."

She settles her hand briefly on his shoulder. "But... You should call me. If you need something before then."

It's so easy to settle back into the old rhythm, but there's still a lot between them that hasn't been said. They can't let that sit forever, she knows that. Still, for now, she just wants to be happy that he's here.

"You know I will, sweetheart."

Whether he's lying or not, Sans attempts to muffle any doubt with a hand laid over hers on his shoulder, gently enclosing it in both his hands before pushing it back to her middle.

"That goes both ways, alright?"

She does have her doubts, but she sets them aside for now, leaning down to hug him briefly, one last time.

"All right."

in the words of thomas jefferson, "what'd i miss?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject