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entrancelogs2018-04-30 08:19 pm
punful) wrote in entrancelogs2018-04-30 08:19 pm
[OPEN] it came from nowhere
Who: Sans and YOU
Where: The mansion, the grounds and the caves
When: 4/28 - 5/02
Rating: PG-13 for violence and character death
Summary: Sans tries to keep his promise to Shepard until the Indoctrination gets him.
The Story:
A: The Roof/Grounds: 4/28 - 4/29: what good has the news ever done me
Sans is not a hero. Never has been, never will be. And he's notoriously bad at keeping promises. His agreement with Shepard, back when she was forming the whole Wonderland defense group--or whatever it's called--was less of a promise and more of a...offer. Like a favor. He can teleport people to safety if need be, like the world's laziest extraction plan.
It's really the least he can do.
So for the first two days, he periodically goes to a window or up to the roof to look out at the Reaper and see if there's anyone out on the grounds or in the hills. If he spots anyone who seems to be wandering too close to the Reaper, he'll teleport nearby--off to the side, as he's not trying to startle anyone. It becomes a little more harrowing once people start showing signs of...not quite being all there anymore.
"hey, it seems kinda dangerous out here. let's go back to the mansion, yeah? i know a shortcut."
If they seem like they can't be convinced, he'll leave them alone.
B: The Kitchen: 4/30: it's just the radio, darling
It's getting bad. Something has gone wrong and he can feel something else creeping around in his head and starting to push its way into his soul. He's been careful--he's always careful. He hasn't stayed outside or anywhere near the Reaper for longer than it takes to teleport someone to safety. And yet as the day continues, he feels it getting stronger and stronger, his sense of self starting to unravel.
Something must be in the mansion.
He gives up on trying to rescue people who want to go investigate the Reapear, because at this point there's a lot of people heading that way, too many to bother. He stays inside, away from windows and electronics, eventually sort of holing up in the kitchen.
He makes pancakes. He makes a lot of pancakes. It's a good enough distraction for awhile. And even brainwashed people need to eat.
C: The Caves: 5/1 - 5/2: shouldn't there be screaming, praying, crying
Once it gets too bad to say in the mansion, Sans heads for the caves. He tries to track down any friends and family before then, trying to get them to come with him. If any of them are even left.
The caves are safe and quiet, but the presence in his head doesn't go away. It doesn't get any stronger, but it's still there the whole time, whispering and urging him to just come on out, come check out the cool alien, cause he loves space, doesn't he? Shouldn't he want to see an alien spaceship up close?
He manages to resist. He tries to sleep. Tries to make conversation with whoever's nearby.
On the last day, the world feels like it's coming apart. The ground shakes. There's the sound of explosions. Distant screaming. Dust and small stones begin to fall from the ceiling. Some of these caves are probably gonna collapse, he thinks. It's the apocalypse, and he's underground for it again.
Feels like he's come full circle.
If anyone's nearby, he'll try to keep the mood light. Might as well laugh in the face of imminent death, right?
"hey. you, uh. wanna hear a joke?"
Where: The mansion, the grounds and the caves
When: 4/28 - 5/02
Rating: PG-13 for violence and character death
Summary: Sans tries to keep his promise to Shepard until the Indoctrination gets him.
The Story:
A: The Roof/Grounds: 4/28 - 4/29: what good has the news ever done me
Sans is not a hero. Never has been, never will be. And he's notoriously bad at keeping promises. His agreement with Shepard, back when she was forming the whole Wonderland defense group--or whatever it's called--was less of a promise and more of a...offer. Like a favor. He can teleport people to safety if need be, like the world's laziest extraction plan.
It's really the least he can do.
So for the first two days, he periodically goes to a window or up to the roof to look out at the Reaper and see if there's anyone out on the grounds or in the hills. If he spots anyone who seems to be wandering too close to the Reaper, he'll teleport nearby--off to the side, as he's not trying to startle anyone. It becomes a little more harrowing once people start showing signs of...not quite being all there anymore.
"hey, it seems kinda dangerous out here. let's go back to the mansion, yeah? i know a shortcut."
If they seem like they can't be convinced, he'll leave them alone.
B: The Kitchen: 4/30: it's just the radio, darling
It's getting bad. Something has gone wrong and he can feel something else creeping around in his head and starting to push its way into his soul. He's been careful--he's always careful. He hasn't stayed outside or anywhere near the Reaper for longer than it takes to teleport someone to safety. And yet as the day continues, he feels it getting stronger and stronger, his sense of self starting to unravel.
Something must be in the mansion.
He gives up on trying to rescue people who want to go investigate the Reapear, because at this point there's a lot of people heading that way, too many to bother. He stays inside, away from windows and electronics, eventually sort of holing up in the kitchen.
He makes pancakes. He makes a lot of pancakes. It's a good enough distraction for awhile. And even brainwashed people need to eat.
C: The Caves: 5/1 - 5/2: shouldn't there be screaming, praying, crying
Once it gets too bad to say in the mansion, Sans heads for the caves. He tries to track down any friends and family before then, trying to get them to come with him. If any of them are even left.
The caves are safe and quiet, but the presence in his head doesn't go away. It doesn't get any stronger, but it's still there the whole time, whispering and urging him to just come on out, come check out the cool alien, cause he loves space, doesn't he? Shouldn't he want to see an alien spaceship up close?
He manages to resist. He tries to sleep. Tries to make conversation with whoever's nearby.
On the last day, the world feels like it's coming apart. The ground shakes. There's the sound of explosions. Distant screaming. Dust and small stones begin to fall from the ceiling. Some of these caves are probably gonna collapse, he thinks. It's the apocalypse, and he's underground for it again.
Feels like he's come full circle.
If anyone's nearby, he'll try to keep the mood light. Might as well laugh in the face of imminent death, right?
"hey. you, uh. wanna hear a joke?"
4/30!
The voices crowding into his head, flooding his circuitry, do not like this resistance. But if he must somehow cut himself off to protect Sans, he will. Alas, thinking of him still makes him instinctively seek him out, even as he tries to avoid anyone he sees. Why did he go near the Reaper? Why did he ignore all warnings?
You know why, Mettaton. You were doomed from the start.
The Reapers want him to set up equipment in populated areas. They want him to fight. They want him to kill. The kitchen is an area many people go to for supplies. He goes there, unwillingly. And when he enters and sees a familiar monster cooking he tries to leave immediately. No. No. He can't hurt him. He won't.
He hopes that Sans, somehow, won't sense his presence. Please.
no subject
He stops with the spatula under a pancake, about to flip it so it can cook on the other side. He looks up toward the door. He can feel turmoil in Mettaton's soul, but he wants to believe it's just stress from the event.
"metta. hey."
He can't quite manage casual right now.
"i--heh. was startin' to get worried."
no subject
"Sans. I don't blame you. It's dangerous out there."
He steps further into the kitchen, looking around. Ingredients, cabinets, Sans. No one else but them. But in the future, more people might swarm in here to get supplies...
A perfect place to set up some kind of Reaper signal. He shakes his head.
"Pancakes, hm? What are all those for?"
no subject
"i'm glad you're okay. seems like things are getting kinda...uh. buggy."
It's a weak pun. Can't think of anything better right now.
Mettaton's...probably not unaffected. The only people who are completely unaffected are likely the ones who hid themselves as soon as this event started. Sans heard people mention the caves and the forest. Maybe the ocean would be safe as well.
He flips the pancake. If the Reaper takes him--if it takes everyone--will anyone need to eat anymore? Will it...matter?
"i...it's a way to--try and focus. and i figure people will be hungry. do you want some?"
no subject
He offers a little smile, tries to cover the flinch, pushes himself into closer proximity to Sans. His soul flares, anxiety and fear trying to tug him away from here.
The whispers in his ears urge him to stay.
"Stress cooking. That's one way to cope."
He looks around the kitchen then, looking for perfect nooks to shove some kind of booster for the signal that is currently trying to sing through his wires. He knows he probably looks odd staring around like this and while a part of him is angry that he's not hiding his distress terribly well, the part of him that is still his hopes that this will put Sans on guard.
no subject
He slides the pancake out onto a plate and starts pouring another one. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. It's nice having Mettaton nearby, but the anxiety and turmoil in his soul is causing a sort of feedback loop.
"i'm...starting to think the mansion's not gonna be safe for much longer. might need to find somewhere to hide, wait things out."
He's about to suggest the caves, since electrical signals are always weaker underground, but then he notices Mettaton looking around the kitchen with a strange look on his face.
"you looking for something?"
It takes him a moment to realize Mettaton didn't answer his question, either. There's a part of him that wants to believe that it's just because Mettaton is out of it, like Sans is--or maybe he just doesn't like pancakes. But paranoia's been eating at him for the last few hours as his mind starts to feel more and more foreign.
"shep...shep said that electronics could be--affected more easily."
no subject
He'd roll his eyes and scoff, but the whispers tell him to stay amiable. Personable. Don't let anything slip. And yet he still rails against it all.
"You're probably right about hiding. Any ideas?"
Give him the locations, Sans. Let him know where everyone is hiding.
"...She did say that, didn't she? Don't fret Sans, I'm still... I'm still..."
His smile is faltering. There's an anger to the voices, an insistence, and Mettaton takes another step back.
"Please, trust me, I'm. I'm fine. Maybe."
no subject
Getting back to his roots. Cheering himself up, trying to take some of the sting out of everything that's happening. Everything that's probably going to happen.
"yeah, a couple. shep said there might be..."
There might be a safe distance, might be some places where people could survive this. He's about to finish, but then Mettaton smiles like that and steps back. He's hesitating. The hesitation is damning enough.
Sans doesn't take his eyelights off him as he turns off the burner on the stove and moves the pan to a different one. No more pancakes. No more distractions.
"'maybe'?"
It's...maybe it's fine. Maybe he's not too fargone yet.
"i-i mean. i've been hearing things. i'm still me, but there's...there's stuff in the mansion that must be broadcasting, and my head's starting to...feel weird. that's what you mean, right? cause...then we could just leave now and we'd be fine."
no subject
He says it harshly, suddenly, taking a few steps closer to be looming over Sans. He needs to know. The Reapers need to know-
His face twists and he practically throws himself away from Sans, the clatter of metal and cooking ware falling to the floor as he crashes into a nearby counter, gripping it tight.
Mettaton takes that moment, that sudden shove, to collect himself. The voices are quiet. His own voice is pained when it comes out.
"Sans... Sans, I don't think there should be a we in leaving. I'm not fine."
Contradicting himself so quickly. He hates this so much.
no subject
His eyesockets go wide and he takes an automatic step back. Then another as Mettaton comes to stand over him. He's viscerally reminded of Gaster, out of nowhere. Tall people like that know how to use their height, especially against someone as small as Sans.
It's terrifying. He tries desperately to keep his expression neutral, but there's sweat beading on his skull. Mettaton can't already be so fargone that he'd attack Sans, right? He can't be.
But then Mettaton reels backward, grappling at the counter, knocking cookware to the ground. Sans briefly covers his mouth with a hand.
It's so much worse than he thought.
"no...metta, listen. you--you can fight it. you can still fight it. you're still you and i'm still me. look, you can feel it, right? you can still feel me."
He moves forward against his better judgment and takes hold of one of Mettaton's hands. It's fine. It's fine, if Mettaton tries to grab him or something, he can dodge. He knows he can dodge.
He grips Mettaton's hand tight.
"it's still us. you just...you have to fight it. please, i know how stubborn you are."
He reaches up toward Mettaton's face with his other hand. It can't happen like this. They can't end up on opposite sides. That Reaper can't just--it can't just take Mettaton.
no subject
He shakes his head.
"I'm stubborn, always have been, but this is... this is more than that, darling."
He tries to keep his face away from Sans but when the monster reaches up and grabs him he doesn't resist, letting himself be turned towards him. He keeps his eyes closed. He can't bear to look at him. His soul pulses with agony.
"Shepard was right, you know. About electronics. I never. I never stood a chance, Sans."
He laughs, a little bitterly, and then looks at Sans, trying to hold the tears back.
"I'm sorry."
no subject
But that's wrong. This is--these are unique circumstances. He should be running. He needs to get out of here before Mettaton can do something they're both going to regret.
Mettaton's hand is limp in his own.
"metta, please."
Feels more like he's begging Wonderland. Or the Reaper. The Reaper can be kind, the things it's doing, the things it wants to do, it's a form of kindness, right? So maybe it can grant them both this one thing.
He shakes his head violently. No. Wrong. It's not kindness. Don't listen, don't listen.
"maybe--maybe if we get you away from it right now, before it can get worse..."
Stupid, since when do you go in for wishful thinking? Since when do you go for optimism? Don't be an idiot just because you...
Just because...
If there's anything that might get through to Mettaton, it's...
He's too high for them to touch foreheads, so Sans briefly leans forward and presses his forehead to the back of Mettaton's knuckles instead. Say it. Just say it. There's no such thing as the right time.
Say it and see if it saves him.
"listen, i... metta, i love you. please."
no subject
He freezes, eyes wide, soul trembling slightly as he hears Sans's words. His confession. Now? He tells him now!? Of all the times, of all the things.
The emotion behind it, the desperation, the bargaining, pushes along the connection between them and blooms in his soul. He's confused, worried, but then it really hits him what this means. What Sans means and for a moment all he feels is joy, a fragile happiness that threatens to overcome his own mind with its delirium.
And then the fear hits. And with it, resolution.
"Sans..."
He can't return his feelings. He can't say it. Not now. Not when there's even a shadow of a chance that the Reaper is making him lie.
"I want to say more, darling, but I can't. Not now. Not like this. Please trust me when I say that- that it's best if we part ways for now."
He turns his hand (gently, oh so gently) to cup Sans's face.
"I will be ok, in the end. This event will end and we'll be together again. All right?"
He can feel them coming back, the voices and images rushing back, and he knows that if Sans doesn't agree or tries to stall, he'll have to run. And he will. Because he-
Well. The feeling is mutual. He hopes.
no subject
And this must be why Chara and Frisk and Asriel all learned to hate it so damn much, because it fucking hurts. It's different from other hurts. It's almost the same kind of hurt as when he realized a version of Papyrus was about to kill him. Almost the same. Because he feels the confusion, the realization, the blossom of joy and then all of it overshadowed by fear and the foreign, encroaching sensation that must be the Reaper's presence. It's not going to be enough. Love is some kind of magic unto itself, but it's still not enough. Because Wonderland is more powerful.
It's already too late.
That hurts more than anything.
He barely even hears what Mettaton is saying. He just lets Mettaton cup his face and stares emptily up at him.
Right. The event will end and they'll both either die or they won't, and it'll all probably go back to normal, and maybe they'll even pretend this never happened. That Sans never said anything. That Sans didn't let himself hope for something and then fail so spectacularly.
The only thing that actually matters right now is that they don't end up responsible for each other's deaths.
"yeah."
He steps back. Lets go. It feels like he's abandoning Mettaton, liking he's letting the Reaper have him. Like he's giving up. Like he didn't do enough or love enough or move fast enough, like he should have done differently, done the right thing, whatever that is.
But if Mettaton kills him, neither of them will ever forgive themselves.
"i'm sorry. metta, i'm--so sorry."
He takes another step back and teleports. He doesn't reappear.
no subject
But that's not how it works here. Not now at least. He said I love you to save him and Mettaton wishes it had. He wishes it had been enough to break through the spell and set him free. It may not have saved him now, here, but...
It gives him hope. When this event is over, he knows. He knows it will be his turn to tell Sans the truth and he hopes fervently that nothing will get in the way of that when the time comes.
The kitchen
While the sight of the skeleton might be a familiar and oddly comforting sight for the young monster, the only questions running through his head is whether this creature serves the Reapers or not.
... And maybe he's wondering what he's making that smells so good.
"Hello, current or future servant of the Reapers. What are you preparing?"
It's said without a hint of emotion in his voice or expression.
no subject
It's just Asriel, though, and before Sans can even think about relaxing, the kid speaks.
Sans goes rigid. He almost forgets to flip the pancake he's got cooking.
"...pancakes."
The kid's already gone. Already a lost cause. Doesn't matter. It's not like it's permanent. Events end and everything might as well just Reset, except for the fact that everyone gets to keep all those fun new memories they've gained.
Asriel's gonna need some kindness when this is all over. Sans glances at him. Hell, maybe he could use some kindness now.
"i got plenty, if you want some."
no subject
Especially when it smells really good?
He steps up to where Sans is cooking, giving the pancakes a little sniff.
"I will accept your offering of... pancakes."
Can't serve the Reapers on an empty stomach, after all.
no subject
His offering. Man. He wonders if this is Asriel hamming it up, or the Reaper. Either way it's kind of...
It's not funny, really. It's kind of upsetting, because it means Asriel is still in there somewhere.
Sans wordlessly slides a few freshly cooked pancakes onto a separate plate and holds them out to Asriel.
"there's syrup if you want it."
no subject
Asriel takes the plate of pancakes. He picks one up and stuffs it into his mouth, his cheeks puffing up. Apparently Reapers aren't much for manners. Or at least this one is.
It's hard to tell by Asriel's expression if he enjoys it or not.
no subject
"some people like it. extra flavor."
no subject
But since you seem to be testing me," Sans isn't, "then I will try some 'syrup'".
Asriel takes the small syrup bottle, opens it and
pours it directly into his mouth.
no subject
He gives an easy shrug. No point commenting on the idea that Sans might be testing him. If Sans denies it, it'll just look worse.
Then Asriel pours the syrup directly into his mouth, and Sans inexplicably wonders if maybe he's rubbing off on the kid. That is 100% something Sans has done. Ketchup might be his favorite, but no condiment is safe.
"you're, uh. gonna want something to wash that down."
He fills a glass with some water and sets it near Asriel. He really can't tell anymore if this is tragic or hilarious.
no subject
His face scrunches up, trying to decide if he enjoyed it or if that's just way too much syrup. He takes the glass of water and gulps the whole thing down. It helps, but it doesn't completely clear out the mouthful of syrup that Asriel just swallowed.
"How do you even tolerate something so sweet?"
no subject
Sans has to force himself not to chuckle as the kid downs the whole glass of water. Servants of the Reaper probably aren't allowed to laugh or something.
"well, i'm known for liking weird flavors, so... but uh, also people usually don't eat that much of it all at once. but hey, to each their own, yeah?"
5/2
Though maybe not for the reason he thinks.
Even as Sans looks up at the shaking ceiling, Max looks down at her shoulder bag. She pushes the cover aside just enough to see within. The small screen of her Oregon phone lights up the dark of her bag, cracked and covered in static.
Oh, how she'd been carrying it all this time. How she'd wanted to bring it around to other places. Down to the caverns, even, where there were so many people hiding. She wanted to show them- something, something... It had been itching in the back of her mind, that thing, it had been gnawing at her for days...
And then Sans showed up to help her. To help her get to safety- to all those people. Those living, breathing things. She was so relieved.
She looks back up at him, blinking through the haze of falling dust.
"...A joke?" She wonders if he'd find the phone in her bag funny. If it's funny that she's been carrying it near him all this time. Though she can't imagine why- why it would be funny. Sometimes, in brief flashes, it seems a little horrifying.
"Yeah. Okay. Might as well... make the most of our walk." Her voice wavers with uncertainty as another rumble sends stones tumbling down the walls, and she looks around in fear.
no subject
He knows people are hiding in the caverns, and he thought going underground might alleviate the Reaper's influence even a little. But it--feels like it's slowly getting worse. People were leaving devices all over the mansion, and it feels almost like one of them has followed him. It itches, like there's bugs crawling around inside his skull.
Max seems out of it, but so does everyone else. He figures that everyone in Wonderland is at least a little brainwashed at this point, except for anyone who went into hiding when the event started.
He's so tired. He can't remember when he last slept.
"okay. what do runners like to eat before a big race?"
no subject
"What, Sans?" she asks him, her voice thick with faux curiosity. Just playing along with his little joke in the middle of this life-or-death predicament. But even as she talks she continues to walk forward, egging them on toward where other people must be.
The tunnels shake. Somewhere far away a monster is stirring. Its words reach them like whispers silently winding through the caverns, twisting around the phone in her bag.
"A sneakers bar?" she guesses, a little too loud as though to hide the whispers under her voice. Snickers bar. Her lips part in a grin, even as the rest of her face looks confused. Get it?
no subject
He shakes his head a bit. Gotta just...gotta just keep it quiet. Keep his mind quiet. Don't listen.
"nah, they eat nothing. they fast."
He looks over his shoulder at her and flashes her a grin.
"sneakers bar, though, that's--pretty clever."
His gaze flickers a bit. Why does it...why does it feel like it's coming from nearby? It's like someone whispering just over his shoulder. But when he turns, there's nothing there. Just Max.
no subject
The ground rumbles and Max reaches out to brace herself against a wall, glancing up at the ceiling in worry. A smile still plastered on her face. But when Sans turns to her, like he's looking for something, the smile quickly fades.
"What?" Her eyebrows arch up. Why's he looking at her? He should just keep moving forward. She feels the fingers of her left hand twitch involuntarily. "It was a good joke."
no subject
He's glad she liked it. That alone cheers him up a little, if only a little.
His eyelights settle on her when she speaks and he blinks slowly. He feels like he's being pulled in different directions. Should be hiding. Should be heading for the exit, heading into the Reaper's waiting arms.
It doesn't even really have arms.
"nah, i'm...just...d'you feel that? that sorta..."
He doesn't know how to describe it. His gaze goes distant and he scratches the side of his skull with one finger.
"it feels like it did back at the mansion. when people were leaving artifacts around and such. feels like there's one nearby."
no subject
She stares at him, as though pondering. Then, a tad too late, her expression shifts into one of intense discomfort. Yes, she feels it too. She feels it so much- more than anything else right now.
But why worry him? Why tell him that? Up until he said it out loud, Max had been so certain things were fine. Why spoil that?
"No, you're..."
Everything's going wrong, she thinks. She wants to show him the phone, but... She has to tell him, but...
"You're just imagining things..." The words leave her flatly, but then she gasps for breath.
"Sans."
She trembles, shakes her head vigorously, eyes suddenly wide and fearful. Her breaths come short and shallow.
"Everything's. Okay."
no subject
There's a horrible, horrible sinking feeling in his soul. He'd made sure back when he found her, because the Indoctrinated aren't all that good at pretending not to be brainwashed. There's that long interim period where they can still feel it happening and fight it, the period Sans is in now. And Max had seemed like she was there. He'd made sure. She's not all the way gone.
"did you..."
Had he asked? Had he specifically asked her, beforehand? He can't remember. It's all getting jumbled.
"max, did you bring something down here?"
thats what i get for mobile tagging lol
But the thoughts seem to be coming from somewhere else.
She reaches down into her bag and very slowly brings up her old phone, her trembling hand clenched around it. She stares into its broken screen.
The expression that she turns on him is a mix of fear and confusion that slowly melts into resolve. She looks right at his eyelights. It's almost a relief now to shed the identity she'd been wearing- and Max feels herself start to fall away. The reaper knows all. And it knows her usefulness is waning- though not yet entirely gone.
It needs less of Max now. And more of an obedient servant.
"This is the right thing to do," she says as she raises the phone. A shock rumbles through the tunnel, punctuating her words with falling dust and stones. "We need this."
/patpat also THIS IS UPSETTING
"max..."
It's some old phone. Not the network device, he thinks. Just a random old phone. He should have asked. Maybe if he'd fucking asked, told her to get rid of it sooner, maybe she wouldn't have gotten this far gone.
He watches her face change. He knows that look. That Determination. Takes him back. He can almost hear a bell tolling.
Is he overreacting? He is, right? This...this isn't so bad. Since when is he a fighter, anyway? Since when does he resist the inevitable? He's Sans. He sits there and lets things get worse and worse and worse around him. Why bother doing differently now?
Can't tell if that's the self-deprecation or the Reaper talking. He grits his teeth.
"don't do this."
She must still be in there, right? She must. She must, because otherwise this just isn't fair. He's so sick of this goddamn place forcing the people he loves to hurt him.
"please."
For the record YES
The little bit of Max that clings on listens to these foreign words leave her body. She'd say something dumb- about resistance being futile. About technology ruining her generation.
But from one corner of her own mind she listens with disgust at the words coming from her mouth. And with desperation at Sans' plea.
"You just- You don't get it. There's stuff going on that's bigger than you and me. I'm- We're saving everything." There's a messy aggressiveness to her tone. "You'll help. Right? You and me- we always, we always try to do the right thing."
hhhhhhhh
But god damn him, it's still the first thing he thinks to do.
"it's not. it's not the right thing, max. please, this is..."
It feels like a sudden burst of static in his mind as the ground shakes again and he winces, reaching up to rub at a temple. He can't even think straight anymore.
"i know it feels like it makes sense, but this is just--it's an event. this is wonderland. all of this, that reaper, it's going to be gone in a few days. come on. i know you're still in there. you can fight it."
He tries for an encouraging smile. She's strong. She's ridiculously strong, even if she doesn't think so. But strength has nothing to do with any of this. It's taking everyone, and all the will and Determination and desperate pleading in the world can't stop it.
no subject
Then she can't waste time talking to these people.
He doesn't even finish talking before she turns away from him, randomly picking one of the tunnels and striding purposefully towards it. He won't help her find the others? Fine. She'll do it herself. Her cause is far too important to mind the dangers ahead- the violent organics, the collapsing caves.
Another small quake sends her staggering forward, feet slipping before she catches herself (barely) and starts running down her chosen path.
There's no response at all- Nothing, for all of Sans' calling out to the real Maxine.
no subject
"wait--no. max, wait."
He starts following, half-jogging to try and catch up with her. It's worse than he thought, so much worse. If she finds other survivors down here...
He can't let that happen. This is the last safe place in Wonderland.
"max!"
He teleports to catch up with her, but she's running. Oh god, how does he stop her? How does he stop her without...?
He teleports again as she runs, landing directly behind her. His hand is out as soon as he reappears and raises it up, spreading his fingers. Then he makes a dragging motion downward.
A wall of bones burst out of the ceiling and plummet into the cave floor ahead of her. Sans makes another side ways motion and another wall explodes from one of the walls, interlocking with the other bones to create a sort of fence.
She could run right through it if she wanted. She'd get badly hurt, but she could do it easily. But maybe she doesn't know that. Has she ever even seen his magic before? Monster bullets look solid to the untrained eye.
"max, stop. i can't let you bring that phone to the survivors."
GGGGHHHHHH
There are levels of indoctrination. Degrees of control and usefulness. Hollow out someone too much, and you lose the best of them- Too little and they refuse to obey. Max's true consciousness lives on the tiniest bit because of one simple fact: time travel isn't an ability to be thrown away lightly. Its presence in Max convinced the Reaper to keep her mind at least partially whole.
And now it calls on that- and Max raises her hand, ready to twist time around her fingers, a practiced and familiar motion.
But the part of Max that's still thinking properly- that's still a young Oregon girl- says no.
Because Sans would die. Because the rewind would rip him backward through his teleport and leave him a shredded mess.
Time stutters, grinds, breaks for a tiny monent. Alternate realities overlap- a tunnel full of bones that hover unmoving, against one where they burst out in a wild cacophany, against another where the bones were never there at all.
The bones that shouldn't exist rip into Max's shirt as she plows into them, lacerating her torso, arms, legs- she collapses onto the ground, a bloody, torn up mess, crying out in agony- pain shooting through her like nothing she's ever felt before. She crumples there like a broken puppet.
The phone flies out of her hand as she falls, clattering against a wall and breaking into so many pieces.
cw: injuries, teeth stuff
It's almost like everything just stops for a moment. Then everything happens, all at once. It's too much. The whole world shatters into pieces, and Sans feels like he's stuck in a teleport, stuck between two, a hundred, infinite places.
Something nearby gives an almighty crack and everything on his left side goes dark. He hears someone screaming.
Then it's over, and the world snaps back into place. All of the bones disappear, and he can distantly feel KaRma kicking in. Not much, barely there at all--she doesn't have any LOVE to feed it. Sans is on his knees. He can't remember how he got there. His vision blurs. His entire skull feels like it's been shattered and then glued back together wrong. His soul feels like it's cracked. The pain is utterly blinding.
He plants one hand against the ground to try and stay up, presses the other one to his face. Feels wrong. Feels viscerally wrong as he traces his fingers up a crack that runs through his left eyesocket up to his cranium and down almost through his maxilla. He watches with vague horror as something white falls out of his mouth. It's a tooth.
His HP is at .4.
He didn't think that could happen.
Max. Where is Max. He heard her screaming. No LV, he didn't gain any LV, so she must still be alive. She has to be. She has to be, even if HP works differently in other worlds, and he can't think, he can't think, can't remember how it's supposed to work.
He drags himself forward on his knees.
"m-max."
Talking hurts. He wants to just collapse. Let it be over, god, let it be over already. There's a lump on the ground nearby and he tries to drag himself to it. Can't quite make out what it is. Everything is still dark on his left side.
"max."
He keeps dragging himself forward until his hand nudges against her ankle. He reaches out to lay his hand on her. Something smells like copper and salt. He remembers that smell.
"get up. max. pl--"
He shifts his weight and it's too much. He crumples onto his side, grunting in pain as his skull hits stone. He tries to keep his hand around her ankle, just to be sure she's still there.
CR idek violence/blood?
Someone says something. Says her name. She can't move. There's the feel of hard stone underneath her. The feel of clothes sticky and warm with liquid.
She tries to turn her head to look at whoever is talking, and, out of the corner of her eye, she sees something white. Something that looks cracked and broken. The way she feels.
"S-..." The words form slowly, painfully. "Sans..."
Is it June yet?
Is the war on?
Is that why they're lying here, dying?
Even in the constant pain, she remembers to be afraid.
"Sans-" she tries again, and this time she realizes she's crying, sobs mixed with moans of pain.
She realizes it's just an event. Realizes that even just an event can do this. That the only reason she's back in control of her body- back in time to experience this- is that she outlived her usefulness. The Reaper left what little there was of her ruined consciousness behind.
She looks at her trembling hands through blurred eyes, and notices the blood all over them. Her sobs and whimpers grow more frantic. More panicked.
no subject
He can't remember. Everything's blurry, fuzzed over. Why did this even happen? Why was he chasing her?
She's crying. He tries to tighten his grip on her ankle. Tries to force himself back up onto his hands and knees.
He feels brittle. Realizes too late that his HP has dropped to .3 and is still shifting downward. That old downward tug, that old sense of vertigo. Skipping right past Falling. He's got...he's got maybe a few minutes, if he can just get himself up off his worthless tailbone.
"i'm sorry. max, i'm--"
He feels another tooth fall out and can't help a low, pained whine. Doesn't matter, doesn't matter. Fix this. Fix it, damn you.
He's never been good at healing magic. Doesn't have the right magic for it, maybe just doesn't have the Kindness one needs. But he's managed 1 HP in the past, even 2 sometimes. It'd be enough to save someone back home. Here...he doesn't know. Maybe it'll at least ease some of the pain.
If he can manage it. It'll mean pouring out whatever's left in his soul, but that's fine. He'll be dead soon either way.
It'd be nice if he could do something right. Something good. Just for once.
It's hard to concentrate, harder to shape it, and trying to do anything but be in pain is the hardest of all. Magic gathers around his fingertips, white at first and then slowly, slowly starting to tint green. It might not be enough. It probably won't be enough. He can feel cracks spreading out across his skull, down through the rest of him. It's fine. It's fine, it doesn't matter.
Just...just let her not be in as much pain.
It doesn't work right. There's nothing concrete about it, nothing quantifiable, nothing as simple as a number ticking upward. But he can feel it working, pale green and sinking into her skin. Maybe it'll help. Maybe it'll help just a little. Maybe it'll even save her. Wouldn't that be something.
Was that what he was trying to do? Save her? Wasn't he trying to stop her?
Doesn't matter.
"s'okay. you're okay." He's lying. He says it anyway. "i gotcha."
no subject
She did something to Sans, too. They had an argument or something. She wouldn't have hurt him, right? Not over an argument.
And he wouldn't have hurt her. Right?
She swallows hard, painfully. "-I'm- I'm s-sorry too-" She can hardly get the words out around her sobs. "I-"
There's a tinge of green around her feet. She can feel his skeleton fingers wrapping weakly around her ankle. Barely even there.
The pain starts to ease. The unrelenting agony slowly lessens. It could be the best thing she's ever felt- she's not sure. Can't be sure of anything. But the relief is indescribable.
"Sans...?"
Everything's less painful, but no less vague. She feels incredibly lightheaded. Though the wounds on her hands close, they're still covered in blood- the skin still pale, pale white- still trembling with the effort of holding them aloft. She can barely even get her head to lift, to look at Sans.
He looks... so bad. Missing teeth. That huge crack. Did she do all that? Max Caulfield?
The green light fades and they're plunged into the dark of the caverns once again- and her voice is tiny and scared in the dim light.
"Sans...?"
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He feels his magic peter out, the green fading. Doesn't know if he helped or not. Doesn't know if he changed a goddamn thing. She's still crying. She's saying his name. He should answer. He should apologize. If he could just--
If he could--
Did he help at all?
It's starting to hurt less.
It's fine. It's just two days. That's nothing. That's fine. Maybe no one will have to find out. Maybe Papyrus won't cry. Maybe she won't blame herself.
He tries to tell her it's okay, but the magic that lets him speak is gone. And he's gone too.
There's nothing but dust and silence.
no subject
For a moment she can't believe it. But the unnerving quiet, the ashen dust at her feet- did he leave her? Did he... die?
No- she- she has to be imagining this. This has to be one of her old nightmares again. Visions. When she messed with time too much. That's all it is. Messed up time. That's all.
She shakes with suppressed sobs, quietly letting her head settle back onto the ground. Trying not to think about the hand that was around her ankle moment, and gone the next. Trying not to think about how alone she is. How much she wishes Chloe was here, just to cradle Max's head.
The rocky ceiling above her is cracked and loose, stones and dust falling around her now and then. She should move- escape,get out, before whatever she and Sans did proves too much for the tunnel to take. Before it all comes crumbling down on her.
But her limbs won't move. There's so much blood around her. On her. Her breathing still comes in shallow bursts, and her head feels so, so light.
She's so tired.
She wants to sleep.
Her sobs slow, her muscles loosen. She focuses on her breathing, rhytmic and comforting now that the pain has subsided. Whole minutes pass as she lies there, and her mind wanders off into thoughts about nothing.
She never finds out if the tunnels collapse- they grow darker and darker as she drifts off into a deep, deep sleep.
She wakes up a day later.
4/30
...And this is one of the first times he's actually seen Sans in person, actually. Making pancakes.
"Oh, hello."
His greeting is simple, just enough to seem as if he's not been affected. Ryou is often unfazed by things that would bother others, so maybe he comes off as fine!
"That is a lot of pancakes. Can I, ah. Well, are you making them for someone?"
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"heya."
He can't tell right away, and honestly, he'd kind of rather not know at all. He just keeps his gaze on the pan. He's an expert at keeping his expression neutral, but he's not sure if the brainwashed people have any extra skills for reading faces.
He wishes he knew more about how the damn Reaper worked.
"nah, they're for everyone. kinda just a way to pass time. you can have some if you want."