hadriel_logs | it's the routine, it's the regret [closed]

Entry tags:

it's the routine, it's the regret [closed]

Who: Sans and Gren along with party-crasher Wade Wilson
What: Gren's totally not worried about Wade. Sans totally isn't worried about Wade either. ~~they fight crime~~
Where: Around the caves
When: Backated to 5/19 after this
Warnings: Probably violence. Gren's foulmouth. Mentions of Wade Wilson's ass.

[So it ain't surprising that they both end up down here. Gren said "ten minutes," and Sans makes it in eleven. It's probably an indication of how he's actually takin' something seriously for once that he doesn't delay even further.

He's smiling, but, as per usual, it's just a facial quirk of his, and it don't come close to meeting his eyesockets. Conversations between him and Gren typically start out with one or both of 'em leveling some kinda taunting jibe or lazy remark and things simply escalating from there.

The first thing he says, in contrast, is perhaps uncharacteristically grim.]

How long d'you think someone could last in there?

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[Gren's not a patient man; thankfully, Sans isn't too late, so he's only pacing in agitation by the time his skeletal companion shows up. He had said ten minutes, but he'd shown up in eight-- worry makes him more than punctual.]

[But he also can't just blip his ass around the place, so, really, he should be pissier about Sans' slight tardiness. It should be easy to be on-time when you don't have to bother with the whole travelling thing.]

[He stops pacing when Sans arrives, and his lone hand creeps its way over to his ruined shoulder, squeezing at it. He's just a mess of tense little tics right now. The loaded question doesn't really help.]

He can fuckin' handle himself. [That's better than saying 'I don't fucking know' or 'hopefully long enough'. Wade's a tough customer, though. If anyone could survive a few weeks in the tunnels, it's him, right?] C'mon. Let's get fuckin' movin', we're wastin' time.

[Sure, he can handle himself. But he's been conspicuously absent for, what? A month now? He should'a noticed, honestly. He should'a taken better notice because he should'a given a damn. Should'a realized something was off when he wasn't getting any sorta late night text, or wasn't seeing Wade around the city so much.

Dwelling on his personal failings as a - friend sure don't help anyone, but private, mental self-flagellation is an easy route for a guy like him.

So he don't waste time, for once. He don't even break his stride as he closes the distance between himself and the cave mouth and enters it in earnest. Speaks smoothly, without glancing Gren's way.]

You gonna be okay there?

Edited 2017-06-03 20:20 (UTC)

[Of all the people that Gren would've expected to go into the caves with, Sans isn't real high on the list. They've never been subtle about their mutual dislike for each other, but strange bedfellows or some shit, he guesses. If they aren't going to look for Wade, clearly no one else will.]

[Gren's had too much experience with this kind of shit. With people going missing and no one giving enough of a flying fuck to look for them.]

[When Sans comments, Gren drops his hand away from his socket, quick like it's burned him. Half the time, he doesn't really notice that his hand makes its way to his shoulder whenever he's uncomfortable, and he doesn't like that Sans noticed, either.]

Fine.

[Just... keep moving forward. Further into the caves, and it gets dark quick.]

You got a light?

[Gren doesn't need one-- his eyes can see through darkness just fine-- but maybe magical skeleton men need flashlights.]

[The man's missing an arm. That's a pretty significant shift in the status quo, but callin' attention to it, like it or not, is something of a cruel move on his part. He didn't bring a flashlight, and that's kind of an oversight on his part, honestly. His sockets ain't real good at penetrating the uniform dark down here.]

Not a conventional one.

[He's got one of the star-stones secreted away in his pocket, somewhere, but he ain't eager to go digging it out just yet.]

You sure we'll want one? Might be kind of a beacon for whatever's down here.

So's the sound of you tripping over your own fuckin' feet if you can't see shit.

[Gren has no problems navigating; if things start to get hairy down here, though, Sans is gonna be up shit creek real damn quick if he can't see what he's doing. Gren could maybe keep him out of trouble, but that's also not what he wanted him to come along for.]

I ain't here to babysit you 'til we find Wade.

[He might not be the most graceful piece of shit down in Hadriel, but he can handle himself, for the most part. Gren would know, much as he regrets that Gren does know in the first place. But he can't do a damn thing about that now, can he?

He slips the stone out from his pocket, bathing the walls of the cave in a cold blue glow.]

Happy?

Not really.

[They hadn't found Wade's dumb ass yet. Gren won't be happy-- or, well, satisfied, at least, he's probably still not going to be happy-- until they find him. Preferably alive, and even more preferably in one piece. He hasn't quite figured out what he's even going to do if they find Wade, either; strangle him, possibly. Or kiss him. Both? It's very much up in the air.]

He ever pull this kinda shit before?

[At least if there was a prior history of Wade wandering off into the caves for a while, there'd be something to go on.]

[Yeah, okay, well - he's not sure he's ever seen Gren happy, even with Delight's influence. Like the guy is just pathologically incapable of smiling every here and again. Whereas Sans is entirely too capable of smiling but, hey, maybe the pair of 'em even things out.]

Not like this.

[Wade's dropped off the radar before, sure. Maybe after gettin' one too many drinks, 'cause the guy sure had a liver like a sponge for all Sans knows. Wouldn't surprise him, honestly. He kinda has that proclivity, don't he?

Like he ain't worth a damn. Like maybe no one'll miss him if he disappears.

(But it took them a month to muster up and do something about it. Didn't it?)]

Not long enough for anyone to notice.

[He should have done something sooner. He should've started looking earlier, started asking other people if they'd seen him sooner. Gren had just thought that Wade was still pissed at him for the shit he'd said after Wade had gone out with Rosen. He'd been getting the cold shoulder from him, and he'd thought as the days stretched on that Wade was just holding a grudge.]

[If they don't find him--]

[He's not going to dwell on that. Not right now, they've got more important things to focus on than this spectacular fuck-up.]

When's the last time you heard from him?

[Sooner than Gren, hopefully.]

Back when the city was all...partyin'. 'S when I heard of him last. [He was with Rey's people, living it up. Long before things went so horribly south between Rey and Sans himself, but it ain't like Wade's gotta know that.

It ain't like he would know that, if he's just been gone for this long. But he's still in the phones, he ain't lost contact, and he's not appeared in Hope's temples, so -

So where's that leave him?

Not a lotta other places he could end up.]

Well, fuck.

[If he's not at home and not with Sans and won't answer his phone and hasn't turned up at Hope's, yeah-- they're running out of places to look. It's just a pain in the ass that the caves are so hard to search, not without a hell of a search party. And Gren doesn't want to have to wait for however long it'd take to convince a bunch of other people that this is worth the risk.]

[So, here they are. Wandering around some dark as fuck caves, looking for a guy that they aren't even sure is there. Awesome.]

Call him.

[Which probably sounds like a weird thing to say, but Gren has his reasons.]

Even if he ain't pickin' up, I might be able to hear the phone.

[It's probably the most amiable Gren's been to him since...uh, ever. No polite entreaties or please or thank you but Sans is kinda at the point where he'll take what he'll goddamn get. It'd just be a hell of a lot better if it weren't Wade's life on the line that got 'em to shut up and communicate for once.]

If you can, it might draw something's attention.

[It's little more than a careful warning as he slips his phone from his pocket. And there he is, still highlighted in blue. Not yet gone.

But everything's gotta "yet" around here.

He dials the number and waits, straining to hear whatever obnoxious jingle Wade might'a picked out for a ringtone.]

You got a better idea?

[Because he's open to them, really. If Sans has some kind of brilliant plan that he can pull out of his nonexistent asshole, Gren would be one hundred percent all for hearing it. Go ahead, boneman, he's all ears.]

[Gren listens when Sans does what he asks, straining his too-good-for-his-own-damn-good hearing. He can hear the tinny, canned ring from the phone when it connects, and waits to hear some sort of answering obnoxious jingle. Hopefully Wade doesn't like to put his phone on vibrate, because even if Gren's hearing is stupid good, he's probably not going to pick up on that from any decent distance.]

[The fact that he's already complied pretty much underscores that, no, he really doesn't have any better ideas. Which, while regrettable, means they've got a plan of action - a really bad plan action, sure, but a plan nonetheless.

He cocks his skull to one side, then another.]

You got keen hearing?

['Cause Sans doesn't even have ears. He's not pickin' up much via the old ossicles though. Except for the...growling. And sound of something shifting closer.]

Don't look now, [says Sans, slowly, like it's not big deal. Like it's definitely not a big deal.] ...but I think something found us.

[Something not Wade.]

Better'n yours.

[Better than most people's. And though he definitely hears the low, guttural rumble of whatever monster's caught wind of them, that's not what he's focusing on. He cares more about the other thing he can hear, albeit very faint and far away, the sound distorted from bouncing off of so many rock walls.]

[A sound that could only be coming from Wade's damn phone.]

[And there's a monster in between him and getting closer to the sound of that dumbass ringtone. That's fine-- he knows what to do with that.]

I hear him. [Or his phone, anyway. Close enough. That's enough of a lead for him right now.] Turn out the fuckin' light.

[Sans, for his part, doesn't really catch it. He's not got that keen...whatever-Gren-is hearing, but he's gonna trust that the guy's being legitimate here. Unless this turns out to be some elaborate prank to lure Sans into the caves and then subsequently ditch him, but seeing that Gren knows what he knows about Sans, this option seems pretty damn unlikely.

He thrusts the stone into his pocket, the light dimming immediately. The benefits being that it makes them that much more invisible to whatever else is out here. The drawbacks being that Sans can see significantly less now.

If one of 'em comes at him and he ain't ready, he's dust on the nonexistent wind.]

Where's that coming from?

[Gren doesn't need light to see by. Sans does, maybe, but that's his problem. And it's only a problem if anything in these caves manages to get through Gren first.]

Up ahead. [Calm your nonexistent tits. He's got this shit. Gren knows that he's useful for only a certain amount of things, and fighting shit is one of them. He's good at beating the shit out of things that need beaten.]

I'll fuckin' deal with it.

[It's in his way. And now, when he finally has a lead on where Wade is after a goddamn month of radio silence? He's not fucking around. The gloves-- and his glamour-- are off, motherfucker. Shit's serious.]

[Ever hear the sound of one monster trying to tear out another monster's throat in pitch darkness, Sans? Enjoy.]

Edited 2017-06-09 09:01 (UTC)

[Well, he can be grateful, at least, that he's got a guy who can handle himself watchin' their collective backs. And for once they're not the ones goin' at each other's throats. Gives 'em more time to deal with the legitimate dangers.

Speakin' of which, it occurs to him that Gren's mass has shifted accordingly, and there's a pale silhouette that he's come to recognize as the other guy's "true" form, so to speak.

It's too dark to see. All he can do is scramble back and keep as wide a berth from the action as possible and desperately hope that no one lobs anything in his direction, 'cause he'll be dust shortly after.

He keeps as wide a berth as possible. Gren's probably - got it covered, yeah. Won't need Sans's interference at any point, he's pretty sure. Only he's wobblin' around without an arm, and that's not a real good advantage for any parties involved.

And Gren's already fully aware of what Sans can do, ain't he?

So, briefly, easily, Sans focuses on the darker shape grappling with him, exerting a finger of bright, invisible energy that wraps about it, and turns its SOUL blue, just for a moment.

Enough for an upper hand.]

[He and the monster, a wampa, are roughly even in terms of size; Gren's got the disadvantage of his missing arm, but the advantage of being very experienced in the difficult art of fighting with only one fucking arm. He's able to keep it pretty distracted, though, and has to in order to make sure that the glass cannon he calls backup won't get squashed. Or whatever happens to weird magic skeleton men when they die.]

[He's grappling with the thing-- he just needs to get his fucking teeth into its fucking throat and this'll be all over-- when suddenly it drops like a lead weight. Color him surprised, but Sans has actually gotten his lazy bones to do something useful for once, it's a Christmas miracle.]

[It's enough. It's all he needed. In the darkness, there's a meaty, tearing sound and a wet gurgle, and then it's quiet again. The large, pale shape of Gren's true form condenses down into a small human one when he puts the glamour back on.]

It's fuckin' dead.

[So Sans can bring that light out again if he wants. Or, y'know, if he doesn't want to see what just went down, he could not. That works too.]

[It's a Gyftmas miracle, all right. Just don't expect anything more strenuous than that, 'cause the vastness of the thing is makin' it hard to keep down for that long. Thankfully, Gren works quick.

And then he's Gren again - or the human-lookin' guy that most people assume is Gren, 'cause apparently he don't drop his glamour for any old thing. The pale bulk fades, and Sans slips the light stone back from his pocket.]

Bit, uh...fur-ocious, weren't he?

[A loose chuckle, but his metaphorical heart's not in it.]

Which way's Wade?

[When the light comes back, Gren's shrugging his jacket back on and there's a messy red smear around his mouth. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care, but it probably doesn't matter; what's he supposed to do, go find a sink to wash up in? Hell, it might not be the last throat he has to tear out today anyway, so what's the point.]

[But the puns, it wouldn't be Sans without the goddamn puns, would it? His lip pulls up in a sort of sneer and he says,] Not fuckin' nearly enough.

[Clearly. Because it's dead.]

[But hey, whatever, time to get back to the Wade-tracking. Because that's the goal,
find his missing ~~boyfriend~~ fuckbuddy. Right. Fuckbuddy.]

Down this way, unless there's somebody the fuck else down here that's got a ringtone about spooky fuckin' skeletons.

[So, he'll like... lead on, or whatever.]

[...heh.

Heh heh heh.

Sans starts to laugh at that one, though he's not callous and careless enough to escalate it into anything more than a vague chuckle. That's pretty good. Pretty good, he's gotta say. Spooky scary skeletons.

Well, it's accurate.]

Heh heh. Yeah. That, uh...that sounds like Wade.

[Though now he's gotta ask:]

Whaddaya think your ringtone is?

[He probably doesn't want to know what ringtone Wade set his number to, judging from the stupid song he gave to Sans. Probably some song about being a bootycall or something, that's basically what their relationship consists of. Don't question why he's out in the very dangerous caves looking for a guy that he doesn't give a damn about.]

Beats the fuck outta me. Probably some stupid shit.

[It's Wade, so of course it'll be some stupid shit. He's the king of stupid shit, it's his great calling in life. Other than assassination.]

[Up ahead, though, the paths split. He's going to need to listen again to hear where the sound is coming from, and... well, fuck it. Now that Sans has mentioned it, he almost has a morbid curiosity as to what his stupid ringtone is. ~~What Wade thinks of him.~~]

Fuck it. [He takes out his phone and dials. There's silence for a few moments, and then he hears, still distant but closer than before-- a song.]

...For fuck's sake, Wade.

[He almost doesn't expect Gren to actually succumb to that curiosity. But he won't even pretend that he's too good for that. And Sans strains to listen. 'Cause of course he does.

They're close, now. Close enough that he can hear the faint peals of...

Of course.

He ain't familiar with the song, but he really doesn't have to be. It's self-explanatory. He grins, and starts to laugh.]

Oh my god, Wade.

He better be fuckin' alive, because I'm gonna fuckin' kill him.

[He doesn't know how he's going to do it, but he's going to kill this motherfucker. Sure, he doesn't have a great track record as far as actually killing the people that he says he's going to kill goes, but fuck it.]

[He ends the call, abruptly silencing the shitty song. He knows where it's coming from, though, so he starts pissily stalking his way down that path, as only a man whose ~~boyfriend~~ fuckbuddy gave him an undignified ringtone can.]

The fuck's wrong with him, anyway? Are his fuckin' arms broke so he can't pick up the goddamn phone?

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it's the routine, it's the regret [closed]

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