there's no way this won't be great

[skelepun]

Who: Sans + Toriel + Ivan + Frisk
When: April 14th/morning of the 15th
Where: Gardens, bars, and rooms
What: The goat asks out the skeleton. The skeleton gets drunk. The hunk teaches the skeleton how to be a player. The kid learns what a hangover is. Fun for everyone.
Warnings: Drunkenness? Hurt goat feelings? Ivan?


gardens; closed to toriel

There are a few similarities between the gardens here and the Waterfall marshes. Despite every logical impulse, it is easy to pretend for a little while that the sky stretching above isn't a cavern ceiling or ship's hull. With just a hair of concentrated effort, those trappings of reality melt away into something wholly imagined. The glitter of crystals turn to stars, and the shine of light off metal becomes the sun.

It's peaceful. With the feeling of grass poking up between the gaps in his bones, Sans can't remember when he fell asleep and isn't keen on waking just yet. Even the warmth feels like the genuine article, soaking into his bones like a heat lamp. As reality drips in clearer, bit by bit, Sans notices that warmth is located to his back specifically. Another few seconds remind him that the grip around his rib isn't, in fact, a furry blanket -- rather, it's a furry arm, pressed in close and in a position he definitely didn't remember falling asleep in.

So much for staying asleep.

"Whoa, uh." He leans up and away, rubbing at his eye socket and feeling like the world's littlest spoon. "Hey, T." Nudge nudge. "Wake up, Tori. Think we conked out."

bar; closed to ivan

Well. That went well.

Toriel was many things, and kind might top the list. Maybe if she were to get angry at him, or ask for an explanation, or even react beyond quiet understanding, Sans would feel less low right now. He would be so content to coast along as best friends, full satisfied by that arrangement. Companionship without complications or strings. Sans' favorite kind.

She was just so understanding. Ironic, considering Sans understood only about 10% of his own reaction. Even more ironic, the person he wishes he could talk to about this, the person he's sure would have all the answers he needs, is Toriel herself.

Welp. Sans would just have to resort to his second best friend: ketchup. Maybe Miles would be back tonight. Sans wasn't hopeful -- he might not have ears, but he kept them to the walls all the same, and word was Miles had some further recouping to do -- but today was a day of surprises.

Of course, Sans was wrong about everything except for the surprise part.

"'Sup, Ivan." He nods, sliding up onto a stool. "Usual, please. Extra vinegary, if you have it."

nomo deck; closed to frisk

If Sans didn't know any better, he would be sure there were hamsters skittering around in his skull. Hamsters with tiny hammers tied to their tiny feet, pounding with each frantic footfall.

Hamster hammers. There's a pun in there somewhere, but it's a testament to how prominent the ache in his head is that Sans can't think of one for the life of him.

He had a reason for setting his alarm this morning, but pulling the covers over his skull takes precedent. Whatever or whoever it is can wait. Sans has the hangover of the century coming on and he's not about to miss a moment of this groundbreaking personal event.

Ow.

Comments

[skelepun]

A peach.

"Alright." Sans leans back, thumping his hands lightly on the bar. "Lay it on me, slick."

[whatdidisay]

"Well, first -- you gotta make her laugh. Better if it's real laughter, but--"

She laughs, you live. That's how it goes.

[skelepun]

"Oh brother, that's not a problem." Sans snorts. It's hard not to remember how they met -- two lonely people telling bad jokes through a door. "Like I said, we're already best friends. If I couldn't make her laugh, I don't think we'd have gotten that far."

[whatdidisay]

Ivan grins and is almost tempted to clap Sans on the shoulder before he stops, wondering how that's supposed to work.

"Well, okay, then you've got the first step down. What does she like? Bring a gift to the first date -- flowers, if you don't know how to narrow it down."

[skelepun]

"Eh, I dunno if she's a flowers person... her ex is deep into gardening. Like, deep." Considering his biggest problem, parallels between him and Asgore are probably best to avoid.

Wait, is he actually considering this, or just humoring Ivan? Sans honestly isn't sure. Maybe it's the ketchup talking.

"... Snails, maybe. She really likes snails."

[whatdidisay]

Out of all of the answers Ivan was expecting, that... was not it. Ivan blinks. Opens his mouth to say something. Shuts his mouth, considers it, and then coughs to clear his throat.

"Snails? As pets or--"

This is going to be a lot more difficult than he thought it was going to be, damnit.

[skelepun]

"For eating. People eat 'em, y'know." At least, monsters do. Who knows about humans. They use bones to make soup stock, talk about barbaric. Sans hopes he can try some someday.

"I'm beginning to think there might be a bit of a cultural gap here, kid."

[whatdidisay]

"Yeah." Ivan frowns, pausing for a second as he finishes off his drink. "Okay, so tell me. What's romantic where you come from?"

That'll give him a better starting base, Ivan thinks. Something to work with in order to prevent this from being a snail-eating disaster.

[skelepun]

"Wearing clothes." Sans answers decisively. "And secret noodles. At least, that's my bro's idea of romance, and he's a pretty cool guy, so."

Sans can't help chuckling a little, sealing his thrilling cultural illumination with a shrug.

"I'unno, bud. I've never been on a date."

[whatdidisay]

"Secret noodles." Oh god, he's going to have a lot of work set out for him, he can tell that right now. "Okay, well, you want to do something that will foster the feeling you're trying to encourage in the other person. Romance in general, but if you want to get laid, do something that'll encourage closeness. If it's just a date to impress them or to give them a good time, then do something they like."

[skelepun]

The distinction gives Sans pause. Honestly, looking back on all the times they've shared together, there wasn't much difference between that and what Ivan was now classifying as a date.

"Er, that's basically what we already do." With a different name, yes, but still. Sans can't help but feel a little lost. It's not that he doesn't get it, of course. Monsters are as romantically minded as humans. Maybe even moreso, considering all the weird restrictions human culture had a tendency to put on things. Still. Sans never fit that mold very well. "I think we need to shake this up a little."

He took another sip of his drink, finishing the glass. "Seduce me."

[whatdidisay]

Ivan spits out his drink then, spluttering in a most undignified manner.

"I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say 'seduce me'."

[skelepun]

"Did I stutter?" He gestures to himself, the way a model might gesture to a prize ham in a Safeway ad. "You're the one always talking up your grand conquests. Lemme see you in action."

[whatdidisay]

"Yeah but you're--" Not the type he usually seduces. Surely Sans can't be serious.

Good God, what is he supposed to do if he is?

[skelepun]

"Eh, if you're too intimidated, I understand." Sans shrugs, enjoying this a little more than he probably has any right to. "I'm a very fine specimen."

As if to punctuate that statement, Sans wipes some stray ketchup away from his teeth with his sleeve.

[whatdidisay]

Ivan is not Miles, he cannot be baited into stupid things because someone challenged him. But this is about his ability to seduce someone. He winces at the ketchup wipe, sighing deeply.

"You probably couldn't keep a straight face," is his last ditch attempt at a defense.

[skelepun]

"Have you seen me, pal?" Sans swipes his hand down over his face, then back up again. Unlike when human actors do that in the movies, his expression remains unchanging. "Keeping straight faces is all I do."

[whatdidisay]

"I was going to go for 'continually grinning' that borders on unnerving, but sure. Straight faced."

Ivan sighs, drags a hand over his face, and decides he might just be drunk enough to entertain this thought. Or at least to not run away screaming in the opposite direction. "You're still serious?"

[skelepun]

"Y'know, you gotta work on containing that natural charm, pal. I'm so flattered I might just float up outta this bar." Maybe even kick him in the face on the way. That's a nice mental image, and Sans holds onto it like a precious jewel.

"But yeah. Show me what you can do, slick. Make it good, I've got expectations I'm expecting you to meet."

[whatdidisay]

"Look, I'll teach you how to chat people up -- but that's it, alright?" He's not going the full nine yards with this, dammit. Ivan sighs, setting his glass down after finishing it and moving around the counter to lean on it. He's not even sure this'll work for Sans, all things considered, but his face melts from annoyed into something open and affable.

What did Sans like? Puns. Right. Ivan searches his brain for one he's heard before that isn't from the notes he left to Miles, and tries for it. "I can't believe I got fired from the calendar factory. All I did was take a day off." Make Sans laugh, that was always the first goal with a woman. Fake or real, but better real.

[skelepun]

Whether it works or not, Sans has his jaw cradled in both hands now, eagerly awaiting what is sure to be an excellent production. He didn't even have to pay the cover price.

A joke? And more than that, a terrible joke? Damn. The guy had more game than Sans was giving him credit for. He expected some human version of him strutting around, showing off his pretty feathers.

"Hehe, okay. Not bad." His laugh, as it happens, is genuine. This is a man who loves horrible jokes. Considering Toriel is afflicted with that same weakness, he files it away as a note before giving Ivan a quick go on gesture.

[whatdidisay]

Ivan Vorpatril knows he has pretty feathers, and knows the rest of the human male attracted universe generally thinks so, too. He doesn't need to strut to bring attention to them. But alright, a real laugh. Ivan leans in, and grabs the other man another thing of ketchup. Normally he's not about making the women he's after drunk -- but in this case it's just to show how to treat someone else. Flattery, kindness, jokes.

"So," he says, trying to picture Sans as something female, taller, and far more attractive, "tell me something about yourself." Interest, genuine interest as he reaches out to touch the jacket over Sans' uniform. Touching, attentiveness, apparent interest in them.

Easy things.

[skelepun]

Well gee Ivan, if he knew you were into roleplay, he would've modulated his voice up a few pitches.

"I've got a real fondness for garbage." Sans explains, eyelights craned skeptically towards where Ivan is touching him. Man. He just walks right up and feels someone's material? Who does that? Though he's gotta admit, there's a certain swagger to the guy that's pretty effective. Playing along, Sans practically oozes, "Seems like that makes two of us. Wink."

Wink.

[whatdidisay]

Garbage. Good god. And the wink-- Ivan feels like putting his head down on the counter in order to end this right now. But no, no he just has to go a little bit more and then he'll have... what? He doesn't know. How's he supposed to go on from that?

"Common ground, then. Nice."

[skelepun]

Poor guy. It's almost palpable how much he hates this. Sans would even feel sorry for him, if he didn't think Ivan was kind of an asshole.

"So are you ever authentic with any of these girls, or would that interfere with the whole screwing 'em part."