thisavrou_log | june intro log overflow

That grin is unsettling enough as it is with the way it literally never leaves the skeleton's face, but paired with that stare? It manages to make Wash feel at least minorly uncomfortable. At least, until Sans speaks again. Then his expression just sinks and his mood is straight back to agitated.

"Wow." Is all he has to say at first, squinting at the skeleton. But it seems too convenient, that joke. Terrible a joke as it is. "You planned that, didn't you."

Consider him unimpressed, unamused, and annoyed.

"I like to come up with a few zingers when I meet someone new. Helps keep things fresh." Sans shrugs, leaning back slightly against his legless beach chair. "Don't tell me you're one of those humorless people who can't take a joke."

His grin only widens, the innocence of those words paired nicely against Sans blooming hunch that Wash is, in fact, one of those people.

"And the first thing to come to mind when you saw me was a joke about white meat?" He inquires, totally not looking salty about it at all. Except he absolutely does and goes on to huff at Sans' own question. That's rude. He knows perfectly well how to handle a joke!

"I have a sense of humour. I just don't find bad jokes funny." Narrowing his eyes, Wash watches Sans almost suspiciously, not at all trusting that grin. Or any of this, really. Seriously, he should have walked away the moment he read the words 'Leg Con'.

Though Sans has it exactly right, Wash is totally one of those people even if he denies it. His sense of humour is mostly dead and he's never been great at taking a joke.

"Because if it were to start snowing right now, I'd lose you? Because you look like you'd get a sunburn from a TV screen? Because--okay, I'm stopping, but man, you can't set a guy up like that."

Yeah, he's going by his initial estimation.

W o w. Wow. The series of white and pale jokes does nothing to endear Wash to Sans at all. At this point, he's on the edge of glaring at the skeleton, which really doesn't sit well with his denial of not having a sense of humour, but that's hardly a problem on his mind at the moment.

"I didn't ask why it was the first thing that came to mind," he huffs, refusing to believe that he'd set anyone up for a series of jokes like that. He spends a lot of his time under full-body armour, okay? He doesn't get much sun. God.

"Is that how you plan to get people to sign up for this?" He pulls one hand away from his chest to gesture at the sign on the 'booth'. "By throwing 'zingers' at them and joking about their complexions? You realize you're the one here more likely to get lost in a snowstorm, right?"

Don't shame him for being so damn pale when you're a literal skeleton, man.

"You think so? Tell my brother that, willya?" He leans forward, enjoying this more than anyone probably should. He hasn't had one this live in a while. "He's always riding my cocyx about my bones going dingy."

As for his other point...

"Maybe you're just special to me, pal. Ever thought of that?"

"Seems to me that's the last thing he should be riding you about." Not harassing strangers might be a better place to start. But oh, Wash can see that Sans is enjoying this. That stupid, placid smile on his face as he leans forward like that... Goddammit, that just makes this more frustrating. He could so easily walk away and be done with this, too, and yet here he is, still arguing with a skeleton.

What has happened to his life?

"No, I hadn't. We've never even met before. If I'm special to you in some way, I don't think I want to know how."

"You are really prickly." Sans beams, jaw still craddled in his hands. "I think you gotta be all talk. You're still here, arentcha?"

His grin widens.

"Deep down, you must find me to be excellent company. How embarrassing for you."

All talk? Excuse you, skeleton. He is plenty more than talk.

"Actually, I'm still here out of unfortunate curiosity," Wash retorts, arms crossing just a bit more tightly. Nothing about this is remotely entertaining to him and he absolutely does not consider Sans to be even decent company, thank you very much. "You're not good company, you're annoying company. And yet, somehow not quite the most annoying I've ever put up with."

However, he's considering Sans on a level very close to the Reds and Blues, officially The Most Annoying people he's ever dealt with.

"If I found you to be excellent company, I'd expect to be enjoying myself more."

"And yet, there's a whole line of beach, and you're here." Sans is still looking immensely pleased with himself.

Or maybe that's just his face.

"I think you like it."

It is only growing more and more tempting to smack that grin off of Sans' face. The more he talks, the more Wash's fingers almost twitch against his arms in the interest of breaking some bones. Thankfully, he has a great amount of restraint.

"No, it's definitely only morbid curiosity." He is not a man who likes anything, after all. Shut up, skeleton. There's a lot of time to kill here on vacation planet, and he doesn't remember how to make use of downtime. "I think that you're just getting a kick out of annoying me. Congratulations. You're succeeding."

And yet, he's still not walking away...

"Wouldn't deny that even if I wanted to. You're a real kick in the pants, W-A." His hypothesis was still holding strong in favor of masochist as far as any of this went. It hadn't gotten old yet, though, and probably wouldn't for a fair bit more. "Got any requests? I could make fun of your elbows, if you want."

june intro log overflow

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