hadriel_logs | Event Log: Patron Gods

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Event Log: Patron Gods

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Patron Gods event!
Where: All around the city
When: March 15th-March 20th
Warnings: The gods choose you! Whether you choose them back is your call.

It's March 15th! Whether or not you've been having a good or a bad week, the gods decided to get together and put all the characters on teams- just like in those gym classes that you always skipped! Whether or not you were the last one picked is up for debate, but until we can figure that particular mystery out, there's another one to mull over... namely, who left that mysterious note in your bedside table/shoe/fishtank? And how did you get a friendship bracelet twined around your wrist?

Regardless, when opened, the letter will say-

'Congratulations! You have been chosen! [God name] thinks you're a great fit for their team! All you have to do is spread their emotion, and you'll get a blessing - and if your team wins, you get the grand prize: one (1) request for each member of the team, no payment required! Or you can band together and request one big thing, it's all up to you! So find your allies, get started, and let's win this thing!'

Whether or not this is for real becomes immediately obvious, as you seem to find yourself yearning to cooperate with your teammates, and maybe feeling a bit competitive toward your foes. Grab a squeaky chicken or a creepy doll or a snowglobe from the shops if you like, and let's get inspiring! Of course, you aren't forced to participate, but have fun telling your teammates that nobody is going to win their wish because you decided to be a stick in the mud.

Go forth and spread joy! Or sorrow, or scare people, or just really piss them off- but whatever you do, try to have fun and build that sense of community! You're going to need it...

► This log covers March 15th-March 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you're just so mad at the gods that you'd rather die than participate, then let us know here!

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It's when Sans is just in the process of nodding off that she appears.

Her long, golden hair falls in waves across her slim shoulders, and she walks with a decided bounce in her step, as if enjoying the skyless day (or night-- it's hard to tell when you live in a cave sometimes). She's the kind of woman that sticks in your mind long after she's passed you by; a woman that would probably be thought of as captivating and beautiful if one had such inclination.

Wade has a sneaking suspicion that Sans has no such inclination, at least toward human women, but it's nice to break out the old standby anyway. It's been a while since he's had the opportunity to put on this pretty face, and he's definitely not gonna waste it now.

Wade situates himself right in front of the makeshift stand and makes a show of looking attentively at the hodgepodge of sweets Sans has on display. Quite the eclectic stash Sans has found in his scavenging efforts. Where did he find the time in between all those hours of doing nothing and sleeping?

"Hey." The voice that addresses Sans is low and throaty; feminine. And then, when Sans doesn't stir, "Hellooooo?"

Can't say he recognizes whoever comes strollin' his way. He's in the middle of one of his scheduled snoozes when a new voice rouses him, and one of his eyesockets creaks open. He barely has to straighten himself up at all; why bother, when he knows he's gonna end up pillowing his skull in his folded elbows again?

Quick once-over ascertains some key points. He didn't mingle in the Colosseum or with the influx of monthly-scheduled newbies very much at all, so it ain't a far stretch to assume he just ain't met her. Human, he's guessing, unless this is another one of those exceptions to the general rule.

"Heya." So he's gonna go out on a limb here and guess: "newbie?"

Sans doesn't recognize him. Good. Despite essentially being his twin in an alternate universe, Wanda had been lucky enough to have been thrown a bone every once in a while, and the same cancer that ravaged her body didn't always show in her appearance. Call it sexism on the part of the writers, but it means that Wade has a convenient disguise to fall back on when he needs to be stealthy.

Or when he has a sudden urge to troll, like right now. Slender shoulders lift in a shrug at Sans's question, even as Wade resumes perusing over his stash.

"Eh, yes and no. I've been around the block a few times." Let Sans chew on that for a while.

Chew on that he does. Metaphorically, in any case. He don't know everybody who ends up down here, and it can be a real pain in the proverbial neck should it ever come to keepin' track in any organized way. And hey, look at him - he's the polar opposite of organized. Who's got time for that sorta thing?

"Can't say I seen you around." But, hey. Much as he makes it his business to know everybody, he still can't say that he knows everybody. It's hard enough keepin' track of which humans are which some days.

Wade lets out a charming little laugh at that, fully embracing the role he's created for himself. Wanda would no doubt react with disgust at the way he's using her form for this sort of cheap thrills-- if only because she felt she could do a better job of it. Maybe she could, but she isn't here now, and Wade feels as though it's his sworn duty to continue shenanigans in her stead.

Or something. It's easier than admitting that he likes taking on the form of a girl sometimes, in any case.

"I'm mysterious like that," he tells Sans, adopting an appropriately spooky tone of voice for added effect. "Or maybe I just like to come around when there's something interesting happening. Like right now. Looks like you've got quite the haul there, I gotta say."

"Did some pickin' over the shops." He lifts a shoulder in an easy shrug. "Got it all put together in one handy place. Nice, right?"

He looks quite proud of the layout - or about as proud as a guy like him can get, which is to say, not exactly a whole goddamn lot. But emotional ranges are for people who ain't sunk deep into the crushing fog of their own depressive apathy. Am I right, folks?

He closes an eyesocket in a cheerful wink.

"Gotta sweet tooth?"

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe." Said while he's leafing through the various sweets-- lollipops and chocolate bars and even some candy necklaces. Abel would've cried over this mountain of confection if he were here, Wade thinks, with a sudden pang of longing-- cried and carried on in that endearingly dramatic way he had.

"I gotta say, this is pretty damn impressive. Didn't expect there was this much stuff lying arou-- hey! Holy shit! You got Tastetations here!"

He's not even faking-- he hasn't seen this brand of candy since... what? As far back as the 90s? He can't remember. All he can remember was heading to the store one day and being bitterly disappointed when he could no longer find them on the shelves. But here they were, the old long-forgotten candy rediscovered again.

Without a moment's hesitation he grabs one of the hard candies and slides off the wrapper, popping it into his mouth. His eyes immediately roll back into his head in instant bliss-- they're just as good as he remembers them. Suck it, Werthers.

"Dude, you are like... my damn hero right now. I haven't had one of these in my mouth in years."

He...has no idea what those are, or why they're so coveted, but she certainly seems to be enjoying 'em. He chuckles, pleased that he's evidently helped spread a little joy and cheer on this fine day. Doin' exactly what Delight wants and needs best, yeah? Just by pickin' up some candy and collating it all on one spot.

"I donut even know where all of these came from." There's, uh...no doughnuts at this stand, actually. Huh. He ought'a fix that.

He props the butt of an elbow atop the stand's wood paneling, cushioning the rounded edge of his chin in the heel of his palm.

"You gotta name?"

"Sh--"

Spoken around a mouthful of hard candy. Wade stops, offers Sans an embarrassed smile, and tucks the chocolate piece into the shelf of his cheek with his tongue before attempting to speak again.

"Sure I do. It's Wanda. And you're Sans, right? Heard a lot of things about you."

The enigmatic, knowing grin on his face doesn't exactly indicate whether those things are flattering or not. Most likely not, given that it's Sans.

Wanda, huh? Yeah, that don't ring any bells. 'Least she's already figured who he is, and ain't even running away screaming on top of it. Definite plus. That'd maybe be a little more disconcerting if he, uh...weren't the only skeleton down here. That don't bode real well thinking about, so he shuffles the thought aside the same way he shuffled off this mortal coil. The first time, anyway.

"Dunno how you figured that one out," he intones lazily. "There's a skele-ton of us down here, right?"

Whatever she's heard about him probably ain't anything more than what he figures everyone else knows. Unless, uh, Shadow possibly got to her first. Or Marian.

Hopefully that ain't the case.

"I dunno. You kinda stand out."

There's nothing snide or sarcastic in the way she says this. Indeed, the smile across her face has turned warm and almost fond, as if she's remembering a past conversation she particularly enjoyed.

"People never seem to run out of things to say about the small skeleton with the big mouth, y'know?"

"Me? Stand out? Please. I prefer to be sitting at all times."

Really can't say that she's the least bit familiar. Still, humans kinda all start to look the same after a while. If they ain't kids, there's not much of a difference between the lot of 'em. Not a terribly dynamic species.

"Who's sayin' I gotta big mouth?"

"Hah!" Okay, that one kinda snuck up on her. "Man, you're quick. I didn't even pick up on that."

She resumes rifling through Sans's stash, popping another one of those chocolate hard candies into her mouth. Sucking thoughtfully for a few seconds, it almost seems like she's forgotten the question he's asked until she says:

"D'you know a guy named Deadpool?"

Deadpool - for a second he's gotta question who? before it occurs to him that Wade's used that name a couple times. Hard to keep track, but he's pretty sure she means -

"You know Wade?" If she knows Wade, she's gotta be pretty all right, yeah? Well, uh, Gren knows Wade, Gren really knows Wade, but Gren's probably more of an exception to the rule. Wade tends to be pretty discerning.

She's - probably fine.

She snorts. Loudly. "Is that seriously his real name? What a nerd. I figured he was hiding something callin' himself Deadpool."

Self-deprecation means very little in the grand scheme of things, it seems. The grand scheme of things being trolling, of course.

"But yeah, he's mentioned you. Kind of a lot, actually. Took him a long time to shut up. What, did you save his life or something? I mean, there's gotta be a reason he talked you up so much."

Hey, Wade's a good nerd. A friend kind of nerd. Like Alphys, 'cept with way more of a drinking problem. The commentary prompts a subtle lift of a supraorbital ridge, but he ain't in any position to go about defending anybody's honor. Not when he's pretty sure Wade would insist upon not havin' any honor to begin with. Patently untrue, but the joke ain't worth usurping over somethin' so small.

"We're pals," he says, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. Save his life? Sans? C'mon, does he look like somebody who tries at anything? "Lived together a little bit. He's good people."

He's good people. Why, Mr. Sans, you are just giving him the vapors. Or at least, you would have given him the vapors if he'd been here instead of the pretty, totally not familiar at all woman standing in front of you right now.

"Must not be that good of a roommate if you're not livin' with him anymore."

...Whoops. Hopefully that didn't sound as bitter to Sans as it did to him. Wade doesn't exactly blame Sans, per se-- the clusterfuck with Newt and Hermann must've been pretty bad for him to want to get out of dodge.

Doesn't make it any easier to wake up to an empty apartment every day for the past few months, though.]

Things abruptly take a turn for the uncomfortably on the nasal cavity. His surprise isn't palpable; it's barely present in the slow lift of a supraorbital ridge, the minute shift in his posture that has him tilting his skull to one side.

"Don't recall him mentioning that a whole lot," he says, externally quite at ease. Internally, maybe not screaming just yet, but certainly verging on something of a similar caliber.

He looks away, attention now wholly devoted to the wood grain of his little stand. That's much more interesting, and about twenty times less judgmental.

"Weren't his fault, anyhow. Couldn't leave Alphys livin' on her own."

She raises her hands as if in surrender, shaking her head to indicate that Sans doesn't have to explain his actions to her.

"Hey, it's none of my business-- I don't really have a stake in this race here. I'm just makin' an observation. Not exactly privy to what went down between you two, if there was anything, but he sounded like he misses you."

She shrugs, flashing Sans a wry smile.

"Dude doesn't really have the best poker face. Probably why he wears that mask all the time, yeah?" Trade secrets are being divulged right now. Wade hopes it doesn't bite him in the ass later on.

Too defensive. Should'a kept his mouth shut, huh? Now some stranger is givin' him advice on how he should be handling his friendships, and he can't even really fault her for that none. He's not exactly a paragon of virtue, exactly. Just look at him; he's the furthest thing from appealing just now. Skeleton parked in front of a sweet stand, grinning cheekily at anyone who happens by.

Yeah. He makes a pretty garbage roommate. Pretty garbage friend too, by the sound of things. Pity he don't know how to fix that.

"You'd have to ask him." He wouldn't know, would he? As if he needs someone shining a spotlight on all of Sans's interpersonal failures, but lo and behold, that's exactly what he's getting.

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Event Log: Patron Gods

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