sans (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
punful) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
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?"
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...?"
no subject
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.