lethargy got a hold of me [open]

[skelebro]

Who: Sans and you
What: Sans resurrects. He has a good think about what he's done.
Where: Hope's temple and then all around the city
When: 1/26 and onward
Warnings: Casual talk of death, self-loathing, existential depression, lots and lots of r e g r e t s.



1/26; hope's temple; i don't want to use my imagination here

[Death is a funny thing. It's even funnier when you've already felt yourself be cleaved in two, red droplets spilling out between clasped fingertips 'cause you figured, hey, if you were gonna go out you might as well go out with a laugh, yeah? The look on the kid's face when the hot crimson tumbles out from the line that had him bisected - priceless, right?

Didn't get that last ironic fuck you to the processes of the universe this go around. Nah, he got the drop on himself, and now it's kickin' him in the coccyx for it.

His eyesockets snick open, and he stares at the ceiling of Hope's temple from where he is on the altar, and for the first time in his life, he wakes up with memories.

Cold sneers, the ignition of a left eyesocket, the flare of an amber flame coiling out from just above a vindictive, triumphant grin, and the slam of bones through flesh. The roar of Blasters shearing through rock and mortar and cement, bringing the entirety of a building trembling and collapsing on top of the kid that refused, that refused, even as he mocked them with a cruel dismissal.

The tossing of a photograph. The slap of a binder hitting the ground, two surface clipping into alignment like a gauntlet thrown. Two kids, trembling as they hang against one another, barely holding on, blood-covered and torn up all to hell, repeating fragile phrases. Scared, undeniably. Told, viciously, that they ought'a take their life into their own hands. Plunge themselves into the only thing that might wipe 'em out completely.

...he feels like he's had that thought before. Can't imagine who might'a told him. No one he's ever met speaks in hands, yeah? No one would k̤͆͘n̸̜̬o̅̃ͦw̤ͧ᷀ -

Point is, sometime soon he's gotta get up. Sometime soon he's gotta pick himself up and start makin' his way to the kids' place. Sometime soon he's gotta do something.

Sometime soon. Yeah.

Maybe he'll go back to sleep for a while.]

1/27; the lake; broke down, nothing else left

Things keep going. Time rolls on, life keeps going, the world keeps turning - y'know, all those vague adages that people say after trauma hits you square in the chest and picks all the warm little lights from you. And, hey, he knows that pretty well. Knows that a bit too well. Accepted it a long, long time ago.

Sans stands at the edge of the lake with his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. The holes in his shirt have been mended - perks of his clothes bein' made of the same stuff that all monsters are, dissolving into dust along with him - but the sensation of three femurs slamming through his rib cage remains. One bony hand occasionally drifts up to his sternum, dragging a phalanx up and down at the phantom gap in his bones where a Knife once entered, where some bones shot through.

They always go right for the chest. Ruthless.

He should do something useful with himself. Set about apologizing for what that real piece of work did and said to everybody. He remembers a shade too well, all the cruelties he exacted on everybody he knows, and even some people he didn't.

Instead, Sans does what Sans does best.

He stares out across the edge of the water, and he does absolutely nothing.

1/28; the orchard; oh, what i'd do not to worry like you

[He takes Brot out for a long-overdue stroll. Don't bother with a leash or anything like that - figures that'd not work out real well for anyone involved, in any case. He just lets the little fennec fox take a snooze in the hood of his jacket while he ambles on down to the orchard, and then he sets him down and lets him frisk about for a while.

Sans, for his part, plunks himself down beneath one of the trees, unstoppers a bottle of mustard, and starts swigging, watching the little fox trot about with his sockets lidded at half-mast.

Startin' early, maybe.

Maybe now he and Wade can have something else in common.]

wildcard; paint the scene for me, paint it bright and clear

[Feel free to toss up any starters you need if you wanna run into Sans - he'll be all over the place. I'll match prose or brackets!]

Comments

1/26 [Chara, Frisk and Sans]

[save_theworld]

[They haven't been out of bed much, these past few days. And it's something Frisk is determined to rectify, with or without help.

With, apparently. It's a difficult, tedious journey down the stairs, but Chara's there with them throughout. To offer an arm, a few words. Lag for a minute and complain about their shoelaces, just to Frisk will stop and catch their breath. Frisk- knows, what they're doing. They don't protest it.

There mightn't be a sun, but the false light that fills the caverns still feels somewhat the same. Warmish, at least. Better than being cooped up in a bed. Huffing, Frisk leads the way to the statue- round the side and out the way, still playing it's tune over and over, now that there's no rain to stop it. A familiar sound. A good sound.

And that's where the two children stay. A grand trip that has Frisk slumped down against the statues side, almost dozing, but- nice, all the same. Just a bit of difference from how things have been.

A lot better than being stuck in an apartment, with dusty jokes and cryptic papers.

They can work on doing something nice for everyone later.]

[somuchlove]

[It's a long journey but when hasn't that been the case? The only difference was that they both now knew the middle ground meant nothing. It came down to either LV 1 or LV 20.

Chara had been out and about during the days after things settled, or as "settled" as Hadriel ever got to be. The result of those days...varied. But there's no use talking about them. Frisk proposed to go out and see the statue. Something twisted in Chara's stomach but they agreed to go. The trip down took a long time, full of complains of various things and repeating that shoelace joke that Sans once told in place of Frisk, back when they were going through that loop of death.

Met with less than success. But that wasn't the point. Sometimes Frisk thought too much, much like Chara. If they could think a little less about the events that had transpired then so much the better.

Like Frisk, Chara dozes against the statue, side-by-side with their Partner. One hand they have near Frisk's, not touching but close enough just in case they wanted it. The other had the still-broken Locket. Chara would speak to the Gods about fixing it, but held off so they would not be brushed off if the request was sent in too early.

It was the closet thing to having Asriel here as well.

But it is nice, being here. Despite thinking too hard about certain subjects, it was better to air the dust and cobwebs once in awhile. Let sleeping men lie for a little bit before going back to reading It's words.

They'll work until they can provide that one last gift to the world. Until then...they both can rest for awhile.]

[skelebro]

[So Alphys, it turns out, ain't doing so hot. And there's a lotta concerning things that've been said, not the least of which involve the reason she woke up in Hope's, same as him. Must've just missed each other.

Either way, he's gotta have yet another difficult chat he don't wanna have. He intends to head to the spire the kids all share, but he gets waylaid before he makes it to the doorstep - mostly 'cause he catches 'em outside.

The quiet tinkle of a music box and the huddled silhouettes of a couple of kids. Something in him kinda just wants to keep walkin' by and let them rest.

They've been through enough.

But instead, 'cause he's a horrible hypocrite who don't know when or how to let things lie - should maybe think of takin' his advice on learnin' how to QUIT sometime, huh? - he stops a few yards away, hands in his pockets.]

Glad ya made it out.

[Don't think he needs to specify there, nah.]

Orchard

[mismanagement]

[It's sentiment - the same sentiment her double sneered at - that sends Maketh into the orchard, padding barefoot around the trees with her boots in her hand. She doesn't often come here, but can't sleep or sit still long enough to do anything useful. So she wanders through the trees and tries not to think about Lilith, a fruitless exercise if ever there were. Of course she thinks of Lilith here with her feet digging into the ground, disturbing leaves and too-soft fruit. A lot of things were said in the orchard. A lot of things were offered.

She rounds the corner and pauses.]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you.

[Her voice comes out soft and a little hollow. She's not drunk but she's not entirely sober either. It's an odd feeling, like her body isn't really her body and she's watching everything play out from a distance.]

[skelebro]

[He's only half-asleep when someone speaks up, interrupting the sluggish drag of his thoughts through his skull. Brot has his nose up against a hollow knot in one of the tree trunks, and he comes sniffing out as soon as Maketh speaks up. Keeps his distance, but simply peers at her curiously.

He's a pretty well-behaved little dude. Which is nice, 'cause Sans is absolutely shit at disciplining anyone.

Takes him a minute to focus on Maketh and...yeah, that's a fresh twist of guilt in whatever passes for his gut. From the way her double was speakin', it's pretty clear she ate it at some point during the chaos. And then, if she's anything like him, she woke up with all those words in her head.

He's still real, real sore over the fact that people thought Confusion was worth votin' in.]

Nah, I wasn't doin' much.

[There's nothin' wrong with sentiment. Hell, monsters are practically made of it. The problem is when you figure it ain't worth it anymore, to care.]

How you been? You, uh...I guess you're back.

[Like him. He'd laugh, but it ain't very funny.]

[mismanagement]

[There's an odd little animal with oversized ears watching her. Maketh blinks at it. For a moment she thinks of loth-cats and then, inevitably, the Empire. She shakes it away. There's no use in that here.]

Back. Yes.

[She smiles without humor, though even that fades quickly.]

I owe you an apology. For what that thing said.

[skelebro]

[He almost laughs at that one, something wry and self-deprecating, but that'd probably be in poor taste. Yeah. He just, uh...some cruel words exchanged. She probably feels like complete and utter shit about it. No way of knowing what else that thing might'a done, right?]

Wasn't you. And, uh, I wouldn't worry about it. Not the worst thing anyone's ever said to me.

[Or even the worst thing one of those doubles said to him. How 'bout that, huh?]

1/26

[alltozero]

[Asriel had woken up in the temple too, though a little bit earlier than Sans.

It was strange, how familiar it felt. Or maybe it wasn't...? He'd certainly had time to get used to the feeling of waking up after death, of blinking awake back at his Save Point. Like this was just another Reset. Like Chara dusting him was just a bad dream.


Chara.

He's positive they must be waiting for him. They're his best friend in the whole world. They'd never leave him alone. They're the one person who would answer when he called out for help, the one person who understands how it had felt to cry into the darkness and go unanswered. He must have made them worry so much - and Frisk too! Just... vanishing? He knows how miserable he was when Chara had died. He knows how much it hurt when they avoided him after. He can't do that to them! He can't.

He'd hopped down off the alter, had called out.

"Frisk? Chara? Are you there?"



But nobody came.


...Oh.

Well... maybe they're... busy? Maybe they didn't notice Asriel had... that'd be better, wouldn't it? If they didn't have to notice at all? Or maybe - maybe they - the only reason Chara wouldn't be there waiting for him is if they'd died too, right?

So he figures he just has to wait. He knows how to wait for them. He'll always wait for them. He can be patient.

He paces the temple for a while. Checks outside, every so often. Paces the entrance instead, just in case. It's when he's coming back in from one of those out-front shifts, in fact, that he arrives at the altar, and there's someone familiar there.

It's not Chara.

It's Sans.

That... oh. That means he... died, didn't he? Only 1 HP, so all it would have taken is...

Asriel tries. Tries really hard. Tries to feel sorrow for a senseless loss. Tries to feel empathy, tries to remember how it feels to die and apply it to Sans and feel something for him. It's as useless as it always is - a soulless creature just isn't capable of compassion. But all the same, he... well, he tries to fake it.]

O-oh. Oh no, um... Sans? Are you... how are you feeling?

[skelebro]

[He don't really expect anyone to be there. Sooner or later he'll get up and get moving. Sooner or later he'll...heh, wake him up tomorrow, right? Instead he lies there and contemplates the ceiling without really seeing it. The words, when they come to him, are quiet and hesitant, as if their very existence is an imposition upon him.

Funny. Last time he heard that voice, it was false and bright and chipper, spilling all sorts of angry words and secrets that Sans didn't have any right to know.

Either way, he has to get up.

So he gets up.

He slides off the edge of the altar, jams his hands in his jacket pockets, and lifts his gaze to look the king's kid square in the eyes. Is it - what? All an act? Can he genuinely feel not a damn thing for anybody? So why's he bothering?

Why does anyone fucking bother?]

"Sans," huh? And here I thought I was "Smiley Trashbag".

[That's cold. Cruel, even for him. But those words never really faded from his ossicles, a sickening sequence of secrets he's still havin' trouble piecing together.

Does he remember?

Who can say, right? Maybe it's inconsistent. Wouldn't be the first time the gods failed to impose any sort of rule on something. Either way, he doubts the kid wants to hear those words right now. Doubts he wants to bother opening up this can of worms.

Asriel was second on the list of people he figured he sould talk to, and now he just got bumped up to the first.

Lucky day for him.]

1/27

[turingmachine]

They're not... their experience with their double was more obnoxious than actually scary, save for very end when they teamed up with Ahsoka's double, but they still find themselves restless and uncomfortable in their own home. Memories of the night Hayden was taken from them are still all too fresh, and the double kidnapping them for that public humiliation stunt was really just the catalyst for the further development of the resulting anxiety.

They sleep, sometimes, when they're charging their batteries or they really need the rest. But now the thought of leaving themselves so vulnerable makes every part of them crawl. Bob Ross often took walks and enjoyed nature, and with their freedom they've picked up the habit as well. Here, however, it's nothing like the building trees and abundance of planters that decorate their home. There is the park, the orchard, and the lake, and little else.

They're enjoying the lattermost option when they spot a familiar face.

"Sans?"

[save_theworld]

[They don't really need all that much rest, Frisk thinks. That's what they've been doing, these past few days. Resting. Not enough hot dogs to go around, potential lessons in healing magic never come to fruition. They have to heal the old fashioned way- with time, and sleep, and not moving around so much.

Descending seven stories to hang out by a statue likely counts as moving around too much. Frisk doesn't have it in them to be annoyed at that- they don't have anything to do, or anywhere to be. No one's going to come, except maybe Wade, to check on them. Or Papyrus. Everyone else has to- come back the old fashioned way.

With time.

Time's up.

Frisk jolts, and in that instant they want Chara's hand; clasp it hard as they sit up, eyes opening just enough- they're looking at him, really looking, for some kind of indication that it's him.

...

That aside, Frisk doesn't seem much for conversation.]

[skelebro]

The only indication that the approach of somebody else is a faint twitch of his skull before he turns to face the fella in question. The...robot. ROM in question. Takes him a second to place their name, though their face comes to him pretty quick. There ain't exactly an overabundance of ROMs here, after all.

"Heya, Turing," he drawls out after a spell. Grins easily, 'cause that's a simple reaction, the obvious way up and out.

Can't remember much of anything his double might'a said to them. So, uh, that's nice. Didn't ruin their life, apparently. Good job, good for him.

"How you holdin' up? Settlin' in all right?"

In retrospect, that sounds like a mockery, after everything the city's endured.

[mismanagement]

[Maketh rubs her face with a sigh.]

Part of it was. I thought I had put that part myself away, but--

[Well.

She pauses.]

Are you all right, Sans?

[somuchlove]

[It all takes time, which is something none of them have. Chara knows the best way to heal is through time but they were restless and had to move around, if not in the apartment itself, then outside. If they didn't move, they thought and maybe if they ended up in Hope's temple enough times--

No. Not productive. ERASE. If that was to happen, Chara would walk into hell with their Partner and nothing else. And so with time they will both rest....

Or not.

Frisk grabbing their hand jolts Chara out of their doze and they're immediately alert. Their hands tighten over both their Partner's hand and the broken Locket as the Fallen Child stares at Sans, meeting his eye-sockets dead on. No one was going to see them that vulnerable again.]

I suppose.

[Short sentence. They're armed. So which one are you?]

[skelebro]

It wasn't you. It was somethin' wearing your face and sayin' all the things it knew you'd hate.

[And boy, does he ever know how that goes. He considers her question only for a second before running his phalanges up over his sternum, pausing at roughly the place where the femurs ripped through him, crushing his SOUL to dust in an instant.]

I, uh...yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. [He laughs, and his sockets drift closed for a second.] Not used to death really feeling like that.

[skelebro]

[It's like they just frosted their expressions over, the both of them. Like after everything he saw and everything they said, they can't bear to let him see the cracks in their foundations.

Locked features. An empty look.

They killed Alphys. They killed -




Alphys turned Asriel into that thing. Into what he is now. Something unable to feel, maybe, something sadistic and cruel. Maybe she didn't mean to. He can't take sides. He's gotta be objective. He's gotta be objective, but objectivity's already shot to hell where he's concerned. He can barely look at the both of 'em even if he keeps his gaze steady and his smile pinned on like the old, false thing it is, trying to focus on the way his feet are rooted to the ground and the way he can look at 'em.

If it had been his brother -

He snaps himself outta that thought.]

I heard everything he said.

[He raises a weary phalanx and taps it against the rough temporal region of his skull.]

Everything that... [...don't swear in front of the kids, Sans.] I heard all of it. And, uh, I wanted to say - I needed to tell ya that, uh, I'm sorry.

[If he had an esophagus, it would be closin' up right about now, he'd wager.]

You should never've heard a thing like that. Seen a thing like that - from anybody.

[Much less him. Ain't he hurt 'em enough?]

[alltozero]

[Smiley Trashbag.

Asriel's expression wasn't exactly overjoyed to begin with, but he hears those two words, and his expression crumbles. Sans is good at knowing things that he has no actual reasonable way of knowing, just because he can, but... but knowing that is...

It's not hard to guess what Asriel's double must have been like. He doesn't have much of a life, but he makes it pretty easy to ruin when his own past actions have sabotaged it beyond repair, huh?

Suddenly, it makes sense why he woke up all alone.

He shrinks back a few paces, shoulders rising up to lift up the dropping ends of his ears, head bowing.]

N-no, no it's... it's Sans. I don't think you're a trashbag! I don't want to be mean to you!

[It's even worse, because he's lying, isn't he? That scalded, hissing bit of shrapnel rattling around in his hollow chest has snapped the phrase "smiley trashbag" plenty of times since Asriel came here. Always whispering in the back of his mind, in the ugly dark corners where Asriel tries his very hardest to to never ever look.]

[skelebro]

[The effect is instantaneous. There's a part of him - a big part, if he's honest with himself, which he seldom is - that recoils, that reminds him that neither Chara nor Frisk would pull words like that out specifically to hurt him. But he denies it. He denies it like none of it even happened, and Sans -

Sans, uh, kinda lacks the energy to bother keeping up with the ruse.]

And you haven't been. All this time, you've been a real sweet kid. The brother Chara loves. Frisk's friend. I don't wanna deny that.

[He don't even care if Asriel don't know how much he's figured by now. That thing wearing his face, that thing that twisted up its features into disturbing parodies of a smile, that all but confirmed what he was and what he did and how it all happened - is that him too? Was it him all that time, all throughout those times when it cackled and whispered to his brother, who his brother loved and trusted 'cause of course he would? Does he remember? Or does it not...count?

Kids like him are never "innocent," he said. Is that just how it is now? Is that how it's always gotta be?

Can't be. He won't say it is. That'd be pretty unfair, huh? If he says no one's double reflects on who they are as a person, that's gotta hold true for Asriel too. It has to. For a lotta people's sakes. And, uh, 'cause Sans is a pretty selfish guy, for his own too.

It should. He's gotta...hold onto some semblance of objectivity here. Equality. Judging everybody on even planes.]

Your double, the thing wearing your face? It, uh...it said and did a lotta stuff. A lotta stuff that, like it or not, is out there now.

You remember any of that?

[That'd make it easy. Or easier, if he could remember. But maybe not everyone gets that fun little bonus when they awaken.]

[save_theworld]

[It should be reassuring that it's really him. It should be. Not that they've figured out what to do or say about...any of this, but in the fact that this is the right person. The one who lets a kid pull themself up on his sleeve, continues to be a dead weight, a nuisance, and just says it's okay

That should mean something. There's a significant shift, from that point to now. Too many secrets shared. Too many things that they didn't do, but did.

Not your fault I want to die.

No wonder he's smiling like that. Maybe it'll go away, if they keep pretending to be human.]

It's okay.

[It's fine. In the way fine has always been, possibly even more in the manner unspoken than they've ever meant. A boldfaced lie, but they look at him, and he looks back, and whatever else should be said shrivels and dies before it has the chance to test itself on their tongue.

Still haven't talked to Asriel. Don't even know if he's back. Should talk to Alphys. Should- do a lot of things.]

It wasn't your fault.

[Right? A careful glance in Chara's direction, an almost unnoticeable squeeze of Frisk's fingers. Neither of them blame him.

Of course they don't. He's always been too nice to tell them the truth.]

[somuchlove]

[Guess that's the benefit of being born with a permanent smile. No one can really call you out on faking it if it's just your face. Chara can't bring themselves to mimic it, so they lock everything else down.

He knows the things his double said. That means Sans had the memories that extend past his own death. Maybe, in some odd twist, he also knows why the Locket was broken too. But it also means he knows about the notebook.

Something for later. Now.

...what do we do now?]

I agree with my Partner Sans. Those were not your own actions.

[Certainly his fighting style was close, just on a more powerful scale. But in the end "Sans" had used every trick in the book to take on and defeat the anomaly before taking a cue from Chara themselves to get to LV 20. But otherwise, it was nothing like the real one.

But they can't forget how happy he sounded. How genuine "Sans" sounded when he laughed. He was free.]

Don't worry. I do not see that monster when I look at you.

["That monster", with a lower-case. Not Monster. But at the same time, it can't be ignored what Chara is implying. They don't see Sans's double. They see themselves.

And it makes sense. Their sense of justice was always warped, wasn't it? They go to speak to Alphys about Asriel and Flowey and wind up killing her. They try to free the Underground and destroy its Hope. They try making butterscotch-cinnamon pie for Asgore and nearly kill him.

Sometimes the question isn't why did a child climb a mountain. It's 'why did they survive'?]

[mismanagement]

Oh.

[Maketh reaches up to her own chest, where the sword - her own damn sword - had gone through. How ironic they both died like that.]

You...you've died before?

[turingmachine]

"Hi." Turing was fortunate in that their combination of mostly staying in their apartment, not paying much attention to the network, and having very few people who knew them well enough to want to bother them specifically had shielded them from the worst of the event.

"I'm doing well enough, considering the situation." Hopefully things won't be like that all the time...

"What about you? Are you okay?" They hadn't seen the network post about Sans' death.

down by the bay

[purpleknee]

[It takes a bit for Warrick to approach Sans when he notices him, and in the end he doesn't get all that close. Doesn't have much to do with the skeleton himself, just the fact that he's by the water, but... Hey, feel free to turn it into another reason to hate yourself, I'm not gonna stop you.]

...You're back? And -- [you?]

[skelebro]

Figured this was just kinda my afterlife at first.

[Funny. He, uh...he don't think he's really admitted that to anybody who didn't already know. Not anybody aside from Miriam, almost as a casual aside, but she ain't here anymore. Renders that whole confession pretty pointless. But when's a damn thing in his life ever been anything but?]

Bastard was smart. Wore me down, then got the drop on me.

[And ain't that how it always goes?]

[skelebro]

"'Bout as well as I can, yeah." Probably for the best if they didn't see the way things went. Weren't exactly the best way to go for anybody. Weren't great for the kids to watch it happen, and it really weren't great for what that thing implied that they should do afterward.

Death was too good for him. Really.

"You live through it? The whole...?" He makes a tired, circular gesture with one hand. He don't really feel up to elaborating a great deal.