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)
solnet2016-07-18 10:13 pm
justribbing) wrote in solnet2016-07-18 10:13 pm
Nothing says accidental network post like pocket dialing.
[ At first, it's all black, just the loud, raspy sound of cotton against a receiver, until the image is just of dim blue interrupted by bars of fuzzy black as the rasping cuts out. Having apparently accidentally activated his phone while extracting it from his hoodie's pocket, Sans swings himself upright with the sort of hollowed-out and unreceptive expression that belongs to those who just woke up far earlier than intended.
He had pulled his phone from his pocket because it was digging into his hip. Now? He blearily gazes down on it like it offended him down to his bones. Several ways to Sunday. Not that he has much of a right to complain; of those who were snatched away for a few days under inexplicable circumstances, Sans was perhaps the last to return, crashed for a few hours, and once his phone had recharged itself on the ambient free energy transfer from the generator, a few careless movements had activated it.
It's not like anybody woke him. In any case, it's only 10:00 PM or so, and whatever ruined timepiece makes up his "internal clock" is surely totally messed up by now.
He tosses the phone aside. From its now awkward, ceiling-fixed angle, it still picks up his staggering silhouette shuffling away in a corner of the view screen. ]
Heh. Runnin' on empty. You want anything?
[ It's debatable if anyone answers, at least, in his room anyway. ]
He had pulled his phone from his pocket because it was digging into his hip. Now? He blearily gazes down on it like it offended him down to his bones. Several ways to Sunday. Not that he has much of a right to complain; of those who were snatched away for a few days under inexplicable circumstances, Sans was perhaps the last to return, crashed for a few hours, and once his phone had recharged itself on the ambient free energy transfer from the generator, a few careless movements had activated it.
It's not like anybody woke him. In any case, it's only 10:00 PM or so, and whatever ruined timepiece makes up his "internal clock" is surely totally messed up by now.
He tosses the phone aside. From its now awkward, ceiling-fixed angle, it still picks up his staggering silhouette shuffling away in a corner of the view screen. ]
Heh. Runnin' on empty. You want anything?
[ It's debatable if anyone answers, at least, in his room anyway. ]
2/2
It had done him a lot of good while the memory went on.
Just kidding.
Sans picks himself back up, doesn't bother to dust off the seat of his track shorts, just shoves his hands into his pockets for the familiarity of the gesture.
Minutes more standing there to collect himself before he decides-- yeah, maybe he'll step back inside and peek, see how she's doing. ]
no subject
Climbing into bed was like falling out of one, the moment her head hit the pillow. That sensation that's becoming all too familiar, of being swept up by a stranger's memory.
She's never been lost in someone else's thoughts before. What a strange feeling, over something so small.
He dwells on it for what feels so long, Rin starts to feel uncomfortable; for the weight of the disappointment she feels from him, in the phrase "dad", and for the look on his brother's (smaller and younger, so was this before?) face that only grows more confused and wounded by the second. The silent response to his explanation (where'd you hear that?) only provokes more questions, one after the other.
It's not her fault that expression is there, that's Sans's. Why should she feel guilty if he makes his brother cry over such a stupid thing?
Because he doesn't want him to at all (and so she doesn't either); because he makes the situation worse only because he's trying to think of a way to make it better. To spare his brother that bitter hurt in his own chest. There's something undeniably sweet in that, just as there is in his reaction to Papyrus's final question.
This feeling she feels through Sans, like they're in love with everything about him, every fraction of his soul, and they'd give an arm and leg to keep him smiling. They look at him with so much affection, Rin feels it in his chest; in his hands on small shoulders, in the laughter and ever-present smile.
Rin never knew it was possible, to care about someone so deeply. To love with all of your heart, or just the phantom of one.
("I tell a mean bedtime story. I mean mean like heart-warming tales of the adventures of fluffy woodland creatures.")
He really does. Papyrus never doubts, looking so happy and relieved as she lies through Sans's mouth like a pro. His story is told so well that by the time he finishes and the feeling of a long-held embrace passes, when Rin looks up at the ceiling above her head, she thinks she can see stars there.
By the time Sans steps back in, she hasn't changed positions from that: face tilted towards the ceiling, and one wrist over her brow. It makes it hard to tell if she's still awake or not, though she gives no reaction to his presence returning.]
no subject
Sans shuffles a little further in, his shoulders hunched, head angled down.
Carefully, carefully.
He only straightens - a little - when he realizes. No, more like suspects. It might be sleep, or maybe quiet reflection. He hazards a rasping whisper: ]
Can't sleep?
[ Strange beds, strange roommates, strange old castle and all its haunting noises at night. Yeah, doesn't blame her if she can't settle down. Never really seemed settled as the too-young caretaker of her ailing mother, either, always striving, always trying to prove herself. Taking pride in that, even without...emotionally available family. ]
no subject
Her body didn't seem to get that memo, unfortunately, the traitorous thing. As she thought longer into the dark about the memory she just saw, her eyelids only felt heavier and heavier. She could always sharply stir herself back with the little noises that'd pass through the air and the ground — Sans's shuffling footsteps being no exception, snapping her back to somewhat alert.
Rin didn't respond to that, and kept herself very still as he approached. Closer, closer... And finally when Sans shuffles that final step, he might feel something soft and rubbery give way under his foot, muffled by a blanket.
Pbbbbfffffffttt!
And eyes still closed, Rin smirks.]
Well. Not with that smell.
no subject
Yeah, wave his hand behind him a little, like there's anything to air out. ]
Wait, wait, hang on--
[ And he steps back down again, makes sure to squeeze out every last flatulent sound from the whoopee cushion with the rest of his weight bearing down on his slippered foot. ]
Well, I dunno about you, but I feel better.
[ He winks. Leans over. Whispers conspiratorially: ]
You should'a taken the bedtime story.
no subject
It should bother her when he leans over, closer still. It doesn't this time.]
I was getting to sleep just fine. I bet you're just irritated because you didn't get to tell one.
no subject
[ His chuckle is short, low, but not humorless. ]
...Eh, I was gonna ask you somethin', but you're right.
[ Besides, it's much too personal, a note of curiosity that started on the heels of a girl's lonely memory. He isn't so sure he's got it in him to be convincingly vague, to not tip her off that he's seen something.
And, as he glances at his own bed, it's late. ]
Sleep tight.
no subject
Don't say something like that and not follow up on it, jerk. Now I'm going to be lying here awake all night wondering what you mean.
no subject
Yeah, right.
[ He doesn't end up going to his own bed, strolling over to the bean bag chair and taking hold of the handle sewn into its sagging side. It rasps across the floor as he starts to drag it towards the balcony.
He isn't sleeping. But he might as well be comfortable while he watches the stars. ]
It ain't that important. See ya.
no subject
Stupid memories. Stupid dreams. Stupid universe, trying to make her like him.]
Stupid... [She may have been muttering that word under her breath more than once, as he dragged his beanbag chair out with him. Quiet enough not to wake any on the bed or audible to the person outside the room, only vaguely made out irritated noises unless you listen closely.] Bean bags aren't even good for your back. And who gets a private room just to give it up to three squatters anyways...
[Grumble grumble, jerk. She can't believe people missed you. Or maybe she can, but w/e w/e who's keeping track anymore. To be honest, in spite of what she said about this keeping her up all night, her annoyed grumbling doesn't go on for much more than twenty minutes.
It's nice to be in a room that doesn't smell like weed, with the most annoying roommate giving her space (though it probably wasn't even for her benefit). No strange things whispering in her ear, crawling through her thoughts like black ivy. Ridiculously, she feels almost comfortable here.
Rin tells herself she'll still leave when dawn comes, but it doesn't happen like that. Later in the morning, Koo might unbury himself and tug at Sans's hoodie to try and beg some food off of him, but Rin herself will still be wrapped up in a blanket burrito, sleeping long past noon.]