Sans the Skeleton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justribbing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
solnet2016-12-19 12:31 am
justribbing) wrote in solnet2016-12-19 12:31 am
Entry tags:
[video] (It's long. Sorry.)
[ A handheld camera -- quite likely Wade’s smartphone -- ‘pans’ over the gleaming exterior of a convertible. How a car managed to get here is anyone’s guess, but anyone guessing a being like Ozuma may or may not have been involved would probably be close. With its bright red paint shining in the cold winter unlight, the sight of a convertible with its top down might be alien, surreal, or even nostalgic. ]
[ Either way, whoever’s holding the phone seems to understand that such a wondrous sight deserves a proper tribute-- namely, draping yourself seductively on the hood and taking a goofy pin-up video. Which apparently is exactly what Wade has decided to do. From his position on the hood, the viewers can spot someone tucked across the back seats of the car, an almost shapeless mass of voluminous galaxy-print hoodie, t-shirt (this one is blank, save for the faded and occasional condiment stain), track shorts and shabby once-pink slippers. ]
[ Sans appears to be reclining here, sprinkling ash from the end of a cigarette all over himself and the back seat. As he lifts his skull at Wade’s arrival, he quirks a supraorbital ridge at the phone in his hand but his grin doesn’t change. Somehow, being a skeleton with no respiratory system to speak of doesn’t stop him from seemingly exhaling a stream of smoke into the air.
Smoking in the back seat of a new car? Well, it ain’t like its intended recipient is ever gonna enjoy it. ]
sup, you tryin’ out for america’s funniest home videos?
Heh. More like Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You probably can’t tell from where you’re sittin’ but I’m makin’ the most righteous duck-face right now. Oh, yeah-- Cryptkeeper, eat yer heart out. What’s with the sudden wheels, bee-tee-dubs? You suddenly win the lottery or kill a hooker or somethin’?
or somethin’. ...you like it? [ Sans eases upright like it’s the hardest thing he’s had to do all day, but pats the seat with one skeletal hand as he tucks the filter of the cigarette against his grin again. How he does that is a mystery. And given the way he always smells like, uh, greasy burgers or hot dogs and usually ketchup, he ain’t a habitual smoker, either. ] took every last G i had. it’s for Papyrus.
Aww… no kiddin’? [Wade turns away from the phone screen to look at Sans directly. He recognizes that smile-- the smile of someone who would move mountains for his beloved family member. It’s pretty cute, the lengths Sans is willing to go for his brother. ] Quite the expensive Christmas present. I’m guessin’ he’s a huge car buff then, huh? Want me to videotape his reaction when he sees this thing? Could make for some entertaining cinema. I’m imaginin’ something like the Nintendo 64 kid. [A chuckle.]
yeah, ‘bout that… [ Rasping a hand over the crown of his skull, Sans swings his eye lights over the car itself. ] couldn’t wait ‘til christmas, so i went lookin’ for him.
but, hey-- [ The skeleton hunches up his shoulders in a shrug, grinning at Wade. Casually, he passes that partially-consumed cigarette to Wade, like it’s nothing, or normal, or something. ] --turns out there’s no place like home for the holidays. [ That’s when Sans glances again at the phone. That’s, uh, that’s not the setting for taking pictures. He might actually have to do something about that. ]
[Wade’s not a smoker either, barring a brief stint in his teenage years when he wanted to be more like James Dean. Still, when your best bro casually offers you a cigarette, you don’t really say no to that. It’s not like he could get cancer again, anyway. Wade’s in the midst of plucking the cigarette from Sans’s phalanges when the bombshell he’s dropped so nonchalantly registers in his brain. He stops, cigarette held expertly between two fingers as if he’d been smoking for thirty years rather than thirty days, and looks over the windshield at his companion.]
Dude… [He stops; runs a hand over his head and tries again.] I mean-- shit, man. You okay? [Wade lowers the phone, only just now realizing that the recording light is blinking, and hastily turns it off.]
[ Either way, whoever’s holding the phone seems to understand that such a wondrous sight deserves a proper tribute-- namely, draping yourself seductively on the hood and taking a goofy pin-up video. Which apparently is exactly what Wade has decided to do. From his position on the hood, the viewers can spot someone tucked across the back seats of the car, an almost shapeless mass of voluminous galaxy-print hoodie, t-shirt (this one is blank, save for the faded and occasional condiment stain), track shorts and shabby once-pink slippers. ]
[ Sans appears to be reclining here, sprinkling ash from the end of a cigarette all over himself and the back seat. As he lifts his skull at Wade’s arrival, he quirks a supraorbital ridge at the phone in his hand but his grin doesn’t change. Somehow, being a skeleton with no respiratory system to speak of doesn’t stop him from seemingly exhaling a stream of smoke into the air.
Smoking in the back seat of a new car? Well, it ain’t like its intended recipient is ever gonna enjoy it. ]
sup, you tryin’ out for america’s funniest home videos?
Heh. More like Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You probably can’t tell from where you’re sittin’ but I’m makin’ the most righteous duck-face right now. Oh, yeah-- Cryptkeeper, eat yer heart out. What’s with the sudden wheels, bee-tee-dubs? You suddenly win the lottery or kill a hooker or somethin’?
or somethin’. ...you like it? [ Sans eases upright like it’s the hardest thing he’s had to do all day, but pats the seat with one skeletal hand as he tucks the filter of the cigarette against his grin again. How he does that is a mystery. And given the way he always smells like, uh, greasy burgers or hot dogs and usually ketchup, he ain’t a habitual smoker, either. ] took every last G i had. it’s for Papyrus.
Aww… no kiddin’? [Wade turns away from the phone screen to look at Sans directly. He recognizes that smile-- the smile of someone who would move mountains for his beloved family member. It’s pretty cute, the lengths Sans is willing to go for his brother. ] Quite the expensive Christmas present. I’m guessin’ he’s a huge car buff then, huh? Want me to videotape his reaction when he sees this thing? Could make for some entertaining cinema. I’m imaginin’ something like the Nintendo 64 kid. [A chuckle.]
yeah, ‘bout that… [ Rasping a hand over the crown of his skull, Sans swings his eye lights over the car itself. ] couldn’t wait ‘til christmas, so i went lookin’ for him.
but, hey-- [ The skeleton hunches up his shoulders in a shrug, grinning at Wade. Casually, he passes that partially-consumed cigarette to Wade, like it’s nothing, or normal, or something. ] --turns out there’s no place like home for the holidays. [ That’s when Sans glances again at the phone. That’s, uh, that’s not the setting for taking pictures. He might actually have to do something about that. ]
[Wade’s not a smoker either, barring a brief stint in his teenage years when he wanted to be more like James Dean. Still, when your best bro casually offers you a cigarette, you don’t really say no to that. It’s not like he could get cancer again, anyway. Wade’s in the midst of plucking the cigarette from Sans’s phalanges when the bombshell he’s dropped so nonchalantly registers in his brain. He stops, cigarette held expertly between two fingers as if he’d been smoking for thirty years rather than thirty days, and looks over the windshield at his companion.]
Dude… [He stops; runs a hand over his head and tries again.] I mean-- shit, man. You okay? [Wade lowers the phone, only just now realizing that the recording light is blinking, and hastily turns it off.]
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Whose... style..? ]
Sneaky. [ He snorts in amusement that feels suddenly forced and hollow, reaching for another marshmallow. ] Anyway, looks like you haven't noticed, but I'm a professional stinker.
[ Hey, all things considered, this is pretty cozy. Some junk food, some cheap laughs, a good friend by his side. He keeps his own phalanges out of harm's way as he spears a new marshmallow, out of habit, even if he ain't sitting pretty on one HP. ]
Better keep an eye socket out on you and your sticky fingers, pal.
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[Rin fans her mouth through Sans's little speech, kicking her feet in a way that's probably comical. That's what she gets for not giving it a second or two to cool; she'd remembered the process being much faster from her middle school years. Of course she wasn't too far off, and the heat quickly begins to subside as she chews, and the look on her face turns satisfied. Ah, that was good. Not as good as it could have been, of course.]
Uh-huh. I'd like my next one to be just as crispy while you're at it, thank you.
[Propping her marshmallow spear up between her feet so she can use both hands, Rin reaches for a graham cracker, and then a chunk of chocolate to slap over it. If they don't use it all, she'll have to remember to bring some to that person later.
That... Who she's thinking of escapes her at the moment, but they really love chocolate, don't they? Maybe she's thinking of Sakura; a gossamer memory from a distant past. Ah. She should probably not mind it then...]
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His grin doesn't sour, regardless of the bitter taste. ]
Yeah? No promises, boss. But knowin' me, I'm bound to burn a few more before we're through.
[ Chuckling again as he regards the s'more assembly out of the corner of his eye socket, Sans lowers his marshmallow stick over the flames, rubbing the toe of one slipper against the approximate region of his other ankle, like he's scratching some non-existent itch. ]
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Then again, she was never meant to have that with more than casual acquaintances too, but here she is toasting s'mores with someone who knows what she is and has a fine excuse to hate her for it. Tomorrow is full of surprises.]
Honestly, it's not that hard to pull them off before they catch flame! Do you need me to make buzzer sounds warning you?
[Despite prior claims, she seems to sound more interested in seeing he doesn't burn them, like she can't make up her mind. Ahh, but look at the way the chocolate melts when she sandwiches it between the crackers and marshmallow. Heavenly.]
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[ Sans's grin is angled down at the stick held poised over the flame, phalanges fidgeting to turn it while firelight paints his bones orange and gold.
This time, at least, he doesn't lose track of time with talk; he lifts the marshmallows away before they get terribly burnt-- and, of course, tilts them at Rin.
What, assemble his own s'more? He might just end up eating it one item at a time, instead of going through the trouble of stacking them together. ]
You know a bunch about our progress in this 'war', don'tcha? I've kept outta it, for the most part. FIGHTing ain't much my thing.
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I like to consider myself involved. That said...
[Catching the marshmallow off the fork between two crackers, the young mage holds all of the goodies up at eye level for him as she works, so he can see the entire delectably thrilling process. Chocolate melting, gooey marshmallow clinging to graham cracker like a seal... Looks gooood, right~?]
I don't think there's been progress to report since October. I called that Casper guy out for as much, but I'm not any better.
[She sounds cross with herself saying that, holding out the finished s'more for him.]
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Funnier that she makes something of a production outta it. At first, Sans suspects it for a tease, that he'd reach out for the s'more only to have it snatched away. ]
Casper?
[ For a skeleton who seems to know practically everyone, Sans needs a second to recall who that is. ]
You went out there in October? Man, with those things goin' around, couldn't have been a walk in the park.
[ Sans, it never is, it's way your lazy ass never goes anymore. Also he was spending the last part of that month in an unspeakable amount of pain, but, uh, determination's a hell of a drug. ]
1/3
Of course it still tasted pretty good. Would that even be an issue with monster food? It doesn't spoil, so maybe that doesn't matter either. Still, no taking chances there.]
I only ended up scouting, around the end of the month. In rescuing us, it was the others who cleared a new area. But I wanted to see how much further it would lead, you know? Especially since Masaomi and...
2/3
...Masaomi and I were the ones to clear the initial path they took.
[...That still doesn't sound right.]
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Anyways, I didn't get far checking it out. There wasn't much out that way but bats to stop me, but I was getting over being sick. By the time I reached the waterfall I already felt winded, so I turned back around.
[Getting impatient to see his reaction now, when Sans doesn't immediately take the s'more, she shoves it at him with more emphasis. Take it, you lump of weird smells and bones.]
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There's a pretense of looking over the treat, at least until her attention might wander for a second, long enough to take a bite without putting her off her appetite--
It's...
Sans's HP was maxed out. Wait... ]
Uh. [ That's actually a quiet, surprised note, not a pause. ] Hey, now there's a taste of Home, heh heh. Where'd you get ingredients from my neck of the multiverse? Call in a favor on Ozzy?
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[She sounds delighted, clapping her hands. Gripping the armrest, she leans partway out of her seat.]
So? So? Is it good? This was my first time making monster food, and it took me most of the day, but I had fun making it. Still, that's worthless without a boneafide seal of approval.
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You made this, huh?
[ Like that's a surprise. Like that's some kind of miracle. One eye socket shuts in a wink, and he reaches for the bag of broken pieces of chocolate.
Stop him (again) before he pops that into his mouth.
Smells like nostalgia. ]
Not bad. You're a regular monster maitre'd.
[ He totally butchered that pronunciation, by the way. ]
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A lady of her station should embody such traits, or something like that. Classy as hell, the Tohsaka heir can manage this.
Sincerely, it's worth it when he finally pipes up. His words carry a sentiment unusual to him, something beyond joking or dull interest. It's more reverent than she expected. Maybe not as joyful as she would have hoped? But it's real and honestly felt, and that's among the finest of rewards Rin could have asked for in the end.]
That's right, I did.
[She looks tickled pink as she leans back into her seat, content and making no move to stop him from just picking through the goodies. She reaches for her own s'more that was set aside, finally able to take a bite from it.]
It's for you, so you can eat it however you like now, even if it makes you look like a hobo.
[She swirls a finger in the air.] Although if you could be compelled to make at least one more s'more properly before the night is done, who knows? Maybe I could be convinced to make something else for you again.
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Eh.
Guess they're all stuck with the skull. Yeah, Sans ain't a big fan of what he sees in the mirror, either, but if he's gotta live with it, so does everybody else. In the meantime, Sans has demolished a cracker, dusting his shirt with crumbs, but what Rin says has the moderating effect she intends; he passes back the bag (and does nothing about the mess). ]
Bribery, huh..? [ Sans doesn't bother pretending to consider the offer, he just picks up his marshmallow fork and prepares to replenish its supply of toasted marshmallow. ] I'll take it. Ain't half bad at this makin' monster food stuff, pal. But how are you at burgers?
[ Sans, consider your health. ]
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Crumbs dance to the floor as she takes a bite from her s'more, a smidge of gooey chocolate sticking to the corner of her mouth. Scrubbing it away with the back of her thumb, she covers her mouth in an attempt at manners as she chews around her food.]
What sort of burgers? An actually decent hamburger, or the greasy fast food junk?
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[ Did she ever see that table piled high after the food shortage ended, full of foil-wrapped greaseball burgers? Wade and Sans sat there tucking in until they felt sick, and it was magnificent. Of course, they'd been kinda starving -- in Wade's case, literally wasting away -- but still. His garbage habit shows no sign of stopping. ]
Though uh, I remember this one time Sanji whipped somethin' up.
[ He twitches the fork away from the fire before he ends up over-toasting his marshmallows. ]
Kills me to say it, but, uh, best burger I ever had. Guy had a magic touch in the kitchen.
1/2
Well, other than that night she'd lost track of time, and he'd already gone to bed before she could ask him to fetch her dinner. She'd snuck out to the kitchen then with a scarf around her neck, only to fail to steal anything from under the nose of — you guessed it — Sanji.
Bathed in a flickering orange glow, Rin's face softens into something wistful as Sans praises the chef's skills.]
He really does. [...] I wasn't going to mention it, but he's the only reason I was able to figure out how to do this, you know?
[Finishing the remaining bits of her s'more, she reaches for a marshmallow.]
There was this soup recipe he and I worked to perfect together. Like it wasn't already mouthwatering delicious, but Sanji wanted a miracle soup.
[She rolls her eyes fondly at this. Sanji had given her a bowl of that exact soup the night he caught her trying to steal from the kitchen, hoping it'd heal her throat.]
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[Rin smirks at him over her marshmallow fork.]
If he was as particular about that burger as he was the soup, I bet it was the kind of burger you'd find in a five-star restaurant.
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[ Sounds like the sorta stuff you bring to an ailing friend. Big ol' softie under that bristling, irascible exterior, Sans thinks, and not without a small tickle of fondness. He never really... kept in touch, and for that, Sans really has no excuse. It ain't like he's busy doing anything worth talkin' about, right? ]
So he taught you that trick.
[ One socket closes, as he fishes out a graham cracker and piece of chocolate from each bag. ]
Nice. Uh, so how's he do it? Never could figure it out how a guy without magic pulled that off.
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[And insert here some lengthy babble about Sanji's notes and her theories for how he did it, as well as her own application of it. Which. Mostly follows that theory, other than some notes she couldn't puzzle out experimented with, utilizing magic-science theory to fill in the gaps.
Be glad you don't have ears, Sans, she'd talk them off.]
LMFAOOOO HOW ARE YOU SO PERFECT 1/??
Assembling his s'more, anyway, not to mention eating it, leaning back in his chair as he savors the warm glow of the fire and the way magically-imbued comfort food does just what it says. It's... comfortable.
What a nerd, Sans thinks, not without fondness. ]
2/3
Sans listens, gazing indolently at the fire, resting his phalanges over the impossible illusion of girth that layers of clothes offer. ]
3/3
/BOWS. I'M ONLY WORKING OFF YOUR PERFECT SETUPS. 1/2
...And then I realized the key ingredient was an infusion of uranium and nutmeg that I could only acquire by slaying an elder god, so I had to sacrifice my roommate in a ritual to summon him, of course.
[SNORE. Yup, that and the floating Z's over his head (what is this, a cartoon?) would be a no.]
2/2
1/2 LOSING MY SHIT
2/2
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1/2
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