[Open] Price is simple, Rather sparing. Time is slipping.

[ghflskhu_ph]

Who: Bill Cipher + Arya Stark + and YOU!
Where: IN YOUR D R E A M S-- no, literally.
When: During Sleep Curse event
Rating: PG at worst, will follow up.
Summary: A catch all for the Sleep event! Bill has a deal to make and dreams to visit! Need a companion in your comatose slumber? Want someone to laugh at you while drinking a martini while you angst about your regrets in the nightmare fire room? LOOK NO FURTHER!
The Story:

[Catch all OTA:]

Bill watched the communicator with rapt attention.
It's a crying shame it had already been announced the Sleep spell would last a mere 24 hours. Having a surplus of hostages he alone could communicate with would have made for a great bargaining chip! Still, not a total loss. He has more than a few people he has been intending to visit, and now makes for the perfect time.
In fact, with this amount of people falling prey to Henry's curse and unexpected dreamscapes cropping up left and right, it's getting a little harder than usual to navigate them. Bill wouldn't be surprised if he wound up in an entirely different dream than the one he intended. Those new rooms of pure misery and hellfire certainly looked entertaining!
Who knows, maybe you might even walk in on him.

[Closed to Arya]:
From the moment she first answered his call it seemed this was destined to happen. So ready to ask questions, to curious for answers-- so vulnerable a state. Bill barely needed to impose any will at all in tugging Arya Stark's conversation in his needed direction. She was ready to make a deal.

Peering into the girl's memories, Bill reached for something familiar and comforting. A large room with thick fabric-laden chairs, with wooden floors and a roaring fire. That was just the tip of the triangle, of course! As a bonus he kept the atmosphere loose enough for the girl to bend the room's make-up however she pleased. A bit of trust to help ease her in. Didn't want to scare off his first customer in Wonderland, after all!

Both parties had a bit too much of something to gain.

Comments

[punful]

There's a voice. That's, uh...different. There were all kinds of people popping in and out the first time, barely visible through the flames and heat, but this voice comes very clearly. He looks up.

Ah. This guy.

Well that's mildly annoying. Sans isn't the biggest fan of having an audience for his nightmares, but then again he has literally never had a choice in the matter.

He sits up slowly, making a show of yawning.

"yeah, but i'm a big fan of sleeping. if i can't get some good sleep cause of dumb fire rooms in the real world, i might as well try to get some sleep in the actual fire room."

Bill hovers over in the direction of the darkness and Sans's grin turns wry.

"heh. you have no idea. i'd leave it alone if i were you."

Sans's head is supposed to be his playground, after all. He might not take kindly to an intruder. And even if he hasn't made an appearance in Wonderland thus far, Sans knows he's there, inasmuch as that guy can actually be anywhere.

He and Bill probably wouldn't get along. But for now, the dark is dormant. The path is shut. Even if Bill tries to break it open, nothing will happen.

"so i guess ford and dipper weren't kidding about this whole, uh...wandering through people's dreams thing."

[ghflskhu_ph]

Indeed, similar to Alex's SLENDER friend, Bill can't help but feel the ghost of another presence in the general vicinity. Frankly, Bill would love to entice the OTHER out to prove who is really top Triangle in these parts-- but after a couple minutes of jabbing, glancing through, and a small spark of fire he shrugs and leaves well enough alone.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA, BONE JANGLES. THE DREAMSCAPE is MY REALM. I ALONE am CAPABLE of NAVIGATING its TREACHEROUS NONSENSICAL WAVELENGTHS, TRAVERSING ITS EVER CHANGING INCORPOREAL WHIMS. THE COSMOS OF INBETWEEN SPACE is MINE to COMMAND!"

The ill defined walls about them suddenly appear ten times greater. Even without borders a sense of more just encompasses everything. Equations paint along the floor as if the room could be broken down into a more basic code. Though there is no sky, what appear to be stars twinkle down through the void ceiling that should not be visible yet somehow is. The technicolor color that somehow isn't color, almost hurts to behold as it fills the room with indescribable awe.

Bill snaps his fingers and it all disappears.

"IF you want to get TECHNICAL, you all are UNINVITED GUESTS right now."

A small chair conjures out of nothing. Bill doesn't even care he's lounging atop the flames.

"BUUUUT since I'm feeling CHATTY; I'll THROW you a BONE."

[punful]

Bill of course doesn't listen. Sans watches with unguarded amusement as he tries to poke open the void. It's not going to work like that. He never does anything unless he wants to. And it's not easy to make the nonexistent exist, even in a dream. A dream is just about the only place it ever can happen.

"wow. sounds real--"

The dream changes and Sans goes silent. The world expands, the flames shrink away to distant flickers like stars, everything cracks apart into code and unreality. He can't help but be reminded of how easily he could tear a dream apart and shape it into something new and horrible, back when he was still trying to bang down doors. Back when he was angry.

It occurs to Sans that Bill could probably hurt him pretty badly if he wanted.

He folds his hands in his lap and remains neutral as the dream snaps back and the fire surges back in. He peers up at Bill, watching him float in his chair.

"should i be flattered?"

[ghflskhu_ph]

"COULDN'T HURT!"

It's not everyday a lord of nightmares lets you chill in his turf! A little respect goes a long way. Sans already seems to have gotten the message at least. Yes buddy, chum, pal, he can hurt you. Very. Very badly. So let's not tempt fate, eh? Bill glances over to his guest, a spark of amusement in his already glowing colossal eye.

"They say these flames encompass all the regrets of a lifetime lived- sometimes ALL LIFETIMES LIVED, for a CERTAIN FEW! No wonder its so HOT in HERE, huh? Haha!"

Between two beings living outside the laws of timestreams, there's got to be enough fire here for its own planet.

"Either way, they're GREAT for SMORES! PULL UP A CHAIR."

It appears behind the skeleton, or perhaps it was already there; a well worn bar stool, complete with a familiar stain of ketchup, and the scent of fries and burg. If Sans should sit down, he'll find himself no longer looking at JUST the flame room, but one that has touches emulating a certain BAR...

[punful]

Sans doesn't feel particularly flattered. He settles for just being cautious. He's been through enough bad dreams with bad people in them to know when he's outmatched. You learn when to just sort of roll with the punches.

He surveys the flames with a bored expression.

"yeah? surprised we don't have a couple suns in here, then."

Seems that Sans's entire life is an open book to this guy while they're here, so why even bother trying to hide and dodge like usual? Pretty hard to hide in a room this well-lit, anyway.

The scene changes now again, though it's more subtle this time. There's a stool and of course he knows exactly which stool that is. How appropriate. A room full of flames. You can't use the fire exit because you're not made of fire.

He sits. It's like if Grillby decided to say fuck it and collect on the insurance money.

"cute. just like home."

If Grillby shows up he's going to just sigh.

[ghflskhu_ph]

"ACTUALLY WE DO!" Bill pipes up gleefully, snatching two glowing orbs from a corner and popping them in a jar on the countertop. "HEHE! They'll combust in a millenia." He pokes them.

Well, size was all about perception anyway.

Sadly, no Grillby would be gracing the two of them with his presence. Many of the regulars were present, but only when one attempted not to focus on them too hard; echoes of repeated memories that occurred so many, many times before. Their conversations familiar, yet indistinct. One minute Bill is sitting beside Sans, the next he is glancing across the counter at the bartender-- who is also Bill.

"You KNOW IT! Or, rather- Your KNOWING it WELL ENOUGH is part of why it looks so SNAZZY! Spent a LOOONG time here, haven't ya, Bones?"

The triangle stands polishing a dirty glass with a clothe.. also made of glass, neither seem to be getting any cleaner.

"Hmm; Looks like JUST YESTERDAY- how LONG'S it REALLY been?"

Despite the change of scenery, it would appear the flames of the fire room were just as numerous before; roaring merrily behind the counter. The room remained windowless, the red door, ever foreboding in its infinance. It seems not even Bill Cipher could rid the realm of its qualities entirely; instead, he merely... refurbished them.

[punful]

Size is relative, plus it's a dream. Nothing makes sense in a dream. You don't have to be a god to stuff a sun in a jar. You just have to be having a really weird dream.

And since it's a dream, Sans decides that there must be ketchup nearby and, lo and behold, there is. He grabs the bottle and starts drinking. You could almost convince yourself that it tasted real.

Seeing Bill in Grillby's place is mildly insulting. Honestly, him being in this bar at all is insulting. Sans refuses to let it color his memories of Grillby's, though. That restaurant is too important to him to let some random triangle affect his memories.

He shrugs.

"what can i say? grillby runs a quality establishment."

He takes another swig of ketchup and almost chuckles at the sight of Bill cleaning a glass with more glass. That's appropriately random and counterintuitive.

"who knows? time's a funny thing."

[ghflskhu_ph]

"It IS, isn't IT? NEVER CARED FOR THE STUFF PERSONALLY but societies tend to BREAK INTO A PANIC without it!"

The glass sufficiently not clean, Bill tosses it behind him into the flames and proceeds to do the same with another.

"I mean- YOU'D think MORTALS would be HAPPY to lose the ONE SINGULAR STRUCTURE OF ORDER they spend their ENTIRE lives POINTLESSLY FRETTING OVER. They act like it can NEVER be BENT or CHANGED yet it ALWAYS seems to DRAG BEHIND on a 'MONDAY' or FLIES WHEN 'YOU'RE HAVING FUN.' Gotta commend how DETERMINED they are to KEEP up the HYPOCRISY."

Another glass smashes.

"You and I BOTH KNOW that's NOT how it WORKS."

[punful]

He doesn't flinch when the glass smashes, but his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around his ketchup. Glass is a problem. Glass, ceramic, some materials are just good at shattering wildly, and the patterns of flying shrapnel are erratic, almost impossible to dodge. All the glass is ending up in the fire for now, though, and...and besides, it's just a dream. Bill could theoretically hurt him as much as he wants, but it won't carry over into the real world.

Shouldn't carry over.

Probably won't carry over.

"yeah, well. taking away a pretty fundamental pillar of reality tends to be a bit of a rug pull at first. gotta learn how to keep your balance. otherwise it trips you up."

Still trips him up every time he feels that stumble-jolt of a Reload, but he's gotten better at getting his feet back under him.

"what do i know, though? i'm not a watchmaker."

[ghflskhu_ph]

It doesn't escape Bill just how tense Sans is appearing to get over a little glass shattering and the Triangle smashes the next tumbler even harder, in the hopes of more provocation. The skeleton's words halt the drive for violence by quelling it with curiosity, however.

“IT DOES, HUH?”

It's spoken casually, but it's more of a question than it probably should be. Apart from what felt like a blink of his time running Weirdmageddon, Bill could scarcely recall the last time he felt much of anything, the amusing synapse firing from his various puppets aside.

One didn't feel themselves 'tripped' up by traveling through the various nooks and crannies of space and time when none of it was real to begin with. Reality was an illusion-- It was all in his head. Well. Not usually his head. More like whatever sap happened to be constructing his living space at that given moment. That wasn't the point.

Bill can't just dismiss Sans words so easily though. Its probably the first bit of info he's been fed from the other, that wasn't composed entirely of puns and evasion. Still. There's something annoying about it.

“SOMETHING is only UNPLEASANT when its DIFFERENT from what you KNOW. BALANCE is MEANINGLESS unless you decide RIGHT SIDE UP, is the only way to be.”

If Bill no longer felt the disorientation of being lost to space and time, the rest of existence could adapt- and if they couldn't what good were they for any way? The triangle snaps his fingers and the whole bar flips upside down, He, remaining perfectly in place. Sans wants to keep his balance? Let's see him think fast enough to keep it.

[punful]

Sans doesn't react further. He's always had a hell of a poker face. If you only give people the bare minimum and do your level best not to let anything bother you, then no one ends up knowing what parts of you to pick at. It's infinitely safer that way.

The question is interesting, or at least Bill's tone is interesting, like he's genuinely not sure. Like he genuinely doesn't know. Used to knowing how things will play out, isn't he? Used to moving the pieces around on the board himself, planning for every eventuality.

The universe has ways of throwing that type for a real loop. Or at least Wonderland does.

"heh."

He's about to say more than that, but then the world flips.

He's been through this song and dance before. He knows a certain someone who liked to mess around in his head with shit like this, changing orientations, changing perspectives, changing--values, in a sense. The world shifts on its Y-axis, and it's like that tug of blue, the feeling of gravity switching its direction.

Still, Sans isn't very good at being startled. It takes him a second, and his eyesockets widen as he tumbles a few feet toward the ceiling. But it's a dream, either way, and this is no different than being blue. So halfway there, he just teleports and lands easily on the ceiling.

He looks around.

"...man. looks like it's been awhile since grillby cleaned up the cobwebs."

[ghflskhu_ph]

Watching Sans sufficiently flounder, even for a fraction, considerably brightens Bill's mood. For a moment there, he was starting to feel as if he wasn't in total control. This was a space not entirely of his creation. Could it be the red room was trying to manifest not just Sans but his OWN emotional turmoil?

PFFFT. YEAH RIGHT!! As if Bill even understood the concept of regret enough to be affected by this sad spell's tendencies for self reflection! Pathetic.

Bill's eye looks down- up? to Sans from where he is standing, still impassively failing at washing the dishware.

"YEAH, you'd think having a FIRE MONSTER for a BARTENDER and all that ARSON his HEAD would be causing woulda taken care of that problem."

He reaches for San's unfinished ketchup bottle. Hmmm, to drop it or not to drop it?

[punful]

Sans resigns himself to just hanging out on the ceiling for awhile and leans against a support beam. It's mostly just boring up here. Down here. Whatever. He's pretty used to gravity being essentially just a suggestion, so the grammar doesn't matter.

He shrugs casually. Just a skeleton on a ceiling. No big.

"what can i say? it's magic. he doesn't burn anything unless he wants to."

Also, he's pretty sure Grillby has fire insurance.

Sans watches Bill go for the ketchup and his expression turns mock-forlorn.

"aw, come on. don't go wasting perfectly good dream condiments."