with scarves of red tied 'round their throats

[skelepun]

Who: Sans + lots of people + YOU
When: Throughout March
Where: Around the Moira, not so much planetside
What: Catchall for march + come get drunk with a skeleton
Warnings: Alcoholism, probably some general nihilism bullshit. it's sans, so, y'know.



(( if you would like a top level, please let me know via PM or contacting me on plurk at safelybeds ))

Comments

[niffin]

"Nah. Just, you know." She resists the urge to elbow him. She'd drop the bottle. "That he's my best friend, and if anyone ever did anything to hurt him, I would turn them into a xylophone and donate them to the music class."

It's a little hard to give a skeleton a flinty look. She settles for rolling her eyes.

[skelepun]

"Ouch."

But Sans is laughing, and not just because he's drunk. That's a solid burn. Top marks for creativity.

"I'll keep that in mind. You don't have anything to worry about, though." Because they aren't together, but actually spelling out what he means wouldn't be anywhere near as fun. "But..."

He shrugs, grinning up at her from where his head is pressed up against her chest.

"Seeing as we're now bosom buddies and all, I think you're honor bound to share some dirt. Nicknames, baby photos, tales of traumatic embarrassment -- no featherweight stuff. Give me something I can use."

[niffin]

Anyone but an apparently sort of gay skeleton would get their ass kicked for that move and pun. As it is, she settles for gently shoving him off, towards the wall. If he crashes, so be it. So. Be. It.

"Honour is for suckers. What am I getting in return out of this?"

[skelepun]

Bless the inventor of the hoodie, they're fantastic for shock absorption. Slumping contentedly against the wall, Sans shrugs with his usual grace and aplomb.

"Ratch's unending humiliation, obviously."

[niffin]

This one time he was puking up blood, it was hilarious, Doesn't quite meet qualifications.

Shit. They really haven't had like, any fun have they?

"I don't know, uh. We used to know this guy who wore a lot of spandex, and a helmet everywhere?" She pulls the bottle out and takes a swig, considering, before offering it briefly in Sans' direction. She has no idea if he can even get drunk off normal alcohol. "Oh. Oh god, wait. You need to. You need to tell him you want to talk. In the shower. Tell him it's really important."

[skelepun]

Whether or not he can or not isn't answered; Sans would take a bottle of motor oil from her at this point. Most of the contents of his swig winds up on the front of his uniform, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"Pfft, what?" He snorts, handing the bottle back. "Welp, alright."

Pulling up his MID, he's already half laughing as he navigates to Ratchet's inbox.

"Hey, uh, Ratch?" Keeping a straight face is one of his best talents, and he somehow manages to keep himself sounding mostly normal. Whether Alice and her clinking bottle is as talented in that regard remains to be seen. "I've got something really important to tell you. Can you meet me in the showers up on Mero? I'll uh, be...?"

He shoots Alice a look, nonverbally asking am I supposed to be taking a shower in this scenario?

[niffin]

She shakes her head quickly, holds up a finger, and fumbles for her MID. Text quickly flashes up into view:

you want 2 discusz some1htng
with him
about the captains

Alice pauses, takes another drink.

u think its the safest place 2 talk but he has 2 bring
um

She gestures back, hand spinning as if waiting for Sans to contribute the perfect noun.

[skelepun]

Sans nods along with her once the texts appear -- the nod of a guy who's had way too much to drink and risks unbalancing himself in the process.

"I gotta discuss you with the captains." He starts, then stops. "I mean, I gotta discuss the captains with you. It's the only safe place since there are no cameras but uh you gotta bring..."

He gets the signal, screwing up his expression in deep thought.

"--You gotta bring all the sheets in your room. Like, all of 'em. It's really important." Satisfied, he leans back, shoulders practically vibrating with resisting the urge to bust up laughing. "Okay, thanks, see you there, love ya, bye."

As soon as he ends the feed, the pretense of sounding composed falls away. Sans falls away too. Literally. The man is on the floor. If he's laughing, wheezing, or literally dying, it isn't clear.

"He's gonna--" Another gasp, still laughing, still not done. "He's gonna shoot us."

[niffin]

"Nah," Alice considers. "I mean. He might shoot you."

She slumps back against the wall beside him, easing down onto the floor.

"So are we gonna document this, or let him hang out there a while first."

[skelepun]

"I dunno. Walking is hard."

Sans runs his hand down his skull, fingers catching in his eye sockets on the way down. The laughter is dying down, leaving him feeling warm and spent and tired. He hunkers down deeper into the comfort of his hoodie, eye sockets drooping on cue.

"Here, hold onto my arm." He nods lazily for her to take hold, stifling a yawn in the process.