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entrancelogs2016-08-19 01:51 am
punful) wrote in entrancelogs2016-08-19 01:51 am
Entry tags:
let's not fight i'm tired can't we just sleep [SEMI-OPEN]
Who: Sans and anyone who wants to find him
Where: In the woods
When: 8/19-8/20ish
Rating: PG-13, possibly R for mental health stuff
Summary: Sans has had a really rough time the past few months and needs some alone time. And a safe place to lowkey breakdown.
The Story:
Sans is nowhere to be found.
His door is locked. There's a post-it note on it that just says out and nothing else.
His hotdog stand is vacant. There's a sign there as well, this one saying back in 5, but if you bother to wait five minutes, he doesn't show up. Nor does he show up after ten, or a half an hour, or five hours.
Sans never tells anybody anything, and he certainly doesn't tell anyone when he feels like his head is going to explode. He doesn't do this in public, doesn't make a big deal. It's not like this is the first time something like this has happened, it's just the first it's happened in Wonderland. Well. At least the first time that had nothing to do with an event.
So he goes to just deal with it by himself, somewhere that people aren't likely to find him and ask what's wrong. There's literally nothing worse than that particular question when you get this low.
Frankly he thinks he's being a bit melodramatic, but it's not like he's leaving under duress or with any sort of flourish. He just slips away quietly, messages a few people and is gone. Just a day. Maybe two. Just time to think.
He goes to the little pond in the woods first, the one surrounded by flowers. Hydrangeas and daffodils. He surveys the area, hands in pockets. There's a few piles of daffodils, stripped of leaves and rotting. The air smells acrid and sour. The last time he was here it smelled like flowers.
He leaves.
He teleports his way through the forest, since walking is for people who can't teleport. There are a few other ponds in the woods, a bit of a swamp, some outcroppings of rocks, some clearings. This and that. He needs a place that's out of the way but that he could theoretically sleep in without sinking into mud or something. Eventually he finds a spot he's never been to before, a small meadow dotted with a few flowers. There's a small pile of rocks in the middle. The grass is lush.
This'll do.
He wanders the meadow, looks at the rocks, looks at the flowers. He wonders if all of them are poisonous. Probably.
He tries to take a picture and hits the video button by accident. Ah well. It's too far in. No one will find him. Hopefully.
He sits with his back to the rocks and his knees to his chest, hoodie pulled up, arms folded over his knees.
Where: In the woods
When: 8/19-8/20ish
Rating: PG-13, possibly R for mental health stuff
Summary: Sans has had a really rough time the past few months and needs some alone time. And a safe place to lowkey breakdown.
The Story:
Sans is nowhere to be found.
His door is locked. There's a post-it note on it that just says out and nothing else.
His hotdog stand is vacant. There's a sign there as well, this one saying back in 5, but if you bother to wait five minutes, he doesn't show up. Nor does he show up after ten, or a half an hour, or five hours.
Sans never tells anybody anything, and he certainly doesn't tell anyone when he feels like his head is going to explode. He doesn't do this in public, doesn't make a big deal. It's not like this is the first time something like this has happened, it's just the first it's happened in Wonderland. Well. At least the first time that had nothing to do with an event.
So he goes to just deal with it by himself, somewhere that people aren't likely to find him and ask what's wrong. There's literally nothing worse than that particular question when you get this low.
Frankly he thinks he's being a bit melodramatic, but it's not like he's leaving under duress or with any sort of flourish. He just slips away quietly, messages a few people and is gone. Just a day. Maybe two. Just time to think.
He goes to the little pond in the woods first, the one surrounded by flowers. Hydrangeas and daffodils. He surveys the area, hands in pockets. There's a few piles of daffodils, stripped of leaves and rotting. The air smells acrid and sour. The last time he was here it smelled like flowers.
He leaves.
He teleports his way through the forest, since walking is for people who can't teleport. There are a few other ponds in the woods, a bit of a swamp, some outcroppings of rocks, some clearings. This and that. He needs a place that's out of the way but that he could theoretically sleep in without sinking into mud or something. Eventually he finds a spot he's never been to before, a small meadow dotted with a few flowers. There's a small pile of rocks in the middle. The grass is lush.
This'll do.
He wanders the meadow, looks at the rocks, looks at the flowers. He wonders if all of them are poisonous. Probably.
He tries to take a picture and hits the video button by accident. Ah well. It's too far in. No one will find him. Hopefully.
He sits with his back to the rocks and his knees to his chest, hoodie pulled up, arms folded over his knees.
meme squad reuniting again for Existential Dread
But... Sans has always been good to her. Trusted her with taking care of his cat, not Papyrus, not Frisk. She wants to help. She's always wanted to help.
She can tell he's in the forest from his accidental transmission, heads out that direction, even though she hasn't been to the forest in months and the last time she was there was also with Sans, in the aftermath of too many emotions and not enough control. Just the memory makes her suck in a tight breath, so she shifts over to thinking about how she's going to explain why she wandered through the woods for probably a while to find him. She can't just play this off easy, because she never comes out here. She could lie, but she's... still sort of trying to move away from that, at least, and Sans would probably know anyway. She could be upfront and say she was looking for him, but he might just run, or feel too uncomfortable to actually talk. She could say she was trying to get away for a bit. Go for a walk. But that's not like her, either.
She reaches up, drags her hands over her eyes, absentmindedly cleans her glasses on her coat, and nearly trips directly over him in the few moments she can't see.
Stumbling backwards when her foot collides with something decidedly-not-grass and she hops awkwardly backwards, using her tail for stability, hands gripping to her own coat before, surprise, she's here and still doesn't know what to say.
"... Uhm. H-Hey! Sorry. Uhm. Are you ok? I'm s-sorry, oh gosh, I was cleaning my glasses, I... uh, y-yeah. Hey?"
we're getting the band back together
But you don't get to where Sans is by being off your guard, even when you're at your worst. A monster with 1 HP doesn't last too long if he can't stay alert at all times. Even while sleeping. Even while breaking down.
He hears footsteps. Slightly heavy, with the characteristic occasional dragging sound of a tail.
So, that's probably Alphys.
He doesn't move or look up or acknowledge her approach until she almost trips over him. Then he gives a violent flinch, scooting sideways along the rocks, because sudden physical contact is not something he expected or wanted or needed right now.
"al. jeez."
Of course that's how it's going to be in Wonderland. It's nothing but coincidences here. Of course he's going to try to find some out-of-the-way place where he can just not exist for a bit and someone is going to literally trip over him.
"what're you...doing out here? i thought you were looking after 4."
with their new hit single "i want to fucking die"
"W-Well, yeah, I was there t-this morning, uhm, I was feeding him, and, I..."
And I thought, god, what if he doesn't come back, her mind supplements, because even if they can't die forever here, they can die, and be gone, and she knows what going off alone looks like. She knows what a small text to take care of loose ends looks like, knows what someone who just walked out on their life looks like, knows what an unintentional call for help through an accidental phone call looks like. Because she went into his room this morning, because she fed the cat, sat on his bed, and couldn't shake the feeling in the pit of her SOUL that something was wrong, more wrong than usual, that if she didn't do something there might not be something to do ever again.
"I... I c-came to find you." One hand is still balled in her coat, the other fidgeting independently at her side. "I thought... I, I d-don't know what I thought. I don't, uhm, r-really have a... plan? I don't k-know." Her shoulders bow, without realizing, hands starting to interlock and body slouching to make herself look smaller, less threatening, less everything. "I know you w-wanted to be alone. Or. Something l-like that, I guess, I don't k-know, I thought, or..."
I thought if I didn't do something now, there wouldn't be something to do ever again
"... I just t-thought, you might, uhm, w-want something to talk to. That isn't, uh, a r-rock. Or that I could, h-help, or something." Is all she spits out, not even bothering to try and smile. Because it's always about her, in the end, about what she knows and feels and thinks and it's all she's ever had to go on.
it went platinum in two hours
But.
She's worried about him. She came to find him. She looks awkward and concerned and frightened, more so than usual.
And it occurs to him, way too late, that she's been here before. That he sent her a message and then didn't respond. That he let a recording post to the network and then didn't respond. That he left one word notes at his usual haunts.
That she, more than anyone, knows what all of that could look like. Because she gets it. She always gets it, even if there are a thousand things he can't tell her, a thousand things he can't tell anyone.
He'd gone to her when Undyne left, hadn't he? That's all she's doing now. He remembered his thought process back then. Go. Be with her. Show her something cute and ridiculous and let her just exist so she can keep existing.
"oh."
He shifts slightly, not really looking at her, still sitting with his knees to his chest. Small. Unnoticeable.
Except that someone noticed.
Except that someone always tends to notice.
"i, uh. i'm not really fit for monster company right now. but if you...want to sit down, you can. it's a nice spot. good for sitting."
just enough time for them to lie on the ground and scream
A kid that slept in the soil. It's not her. She's heard that a lot lately, though maybe not so forward.
"It's a n-nice place. You, uhm, picked a g-good spot."
Alphys closes her eyes for a moment, letting the wind blow over her face, some taller grass touch at her cheek. She tries to let herself breathe, calm down, but she still worries she's not doing enough. Worries she'll never have done enough to help when it mattered.
"I, uhm, I d-did feed 4, by the w-way. I don't know where you kept his c-cat bowl, or, uhm, if he even had one? But he h-has one now. It's black with little w-white fish skeletons on it, b-because I thought it, uhm, would be f-funny."
lie on the ground and feel like garbage
"yeah." He pauses, relaxing just slightly. Loosening up just slightly. "it's, uh. the little things about the surface you don't expect to like the best. like...grass. it's different up here than underground."
It's warm. Soft. And so green. So damn alive. This whole forest is just so green.
"i was letting him eat off paper plates. guess a bowl makes more sense." He smiles faintly at the idea of 4 eating from a bowl with fish skeletons on it. "good choice."
the tried and true method
"Thank you. I thought, it, uh, I mean I didn't e-exactly say, skeleton f-fish bowl? Just every time I t-try to get something from your closet, it gives me something with a skeleton, uhm, o-on it. I think it's s-sassing me, or it just k-knows I think it would be funny." She's pretty confident that it's sassing her, but it's also, albiet, enjoyable.
She lets the silence pass for a few beats before speaking again. "So, uhm... I'm, uh. I'm g-glad to see you."
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"the sun is nice. and yeah. did you expect it to be more overwhelming? more like hotland? cause i did. they tell you there's a giant ball of nuclear fire in the sky and...heh. what are you supposed to think?"
It seemed so counterintuitive, when he read about cold places, how there was snow even up on the Surface. How some places on Earth were cold year round. Earth science and climatology always sort of escaped him, and even here it's hard to conceive of how big the planet actually is. How it's big enough to house so many different ecosystems.
So different from underground.
"i like the idea that my closet has a sense of humor." Sounds legit. They say your rooms change to mirror you or your personality, so. Makes sense.
He's quiet for awhile afterward, watching the clouds, feeling nothing at all.
"it's...good to see you too."
He pauses again.
"i...sorry for disappearing like this. i didn't stop to think what this would. would, uh. look like. i just needed to...to think. i didn't want anyone to...to, uh, have to worry, or...i, uh, i think i'm just not. in a very good...place. the idea was...to, i dunno, sort it out without anyone noticing. i, heh. screwed up, though."
Story of his damn life.
"that reminds me. never thanked you for looking after me when that mutant event thing ended. so, thank you."
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She lays with him, quietly, closing her eyes until he speaks and then feeling her mouth part into a small, weary smile. "You d-don't have to thank me. You took care of me, uhm, a-after the emotions event, even when you were probably r-really tired, too. And that time I a-almost, uh, shot you. So we're b-better than even."
Better than even, because they're friends. That's what friends do. But she still feels the need to do everything she can to try and fix his problems. To be good. It's complicated.
"You d-didn't screw up, though. Everybody's, just, uh... on edge, l-lately. Between everything. We're all thinking s-someone's gonna do something, and then, uh, w-when even innocuous things happen, it's... so much." As if it's not what she thought, sitting on his bed with 4 that morning. As if she didn't panic and run out here expecting the worst. "I'm t-the one who assumed stuff, and panicked. I'm s-sorry."
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and thus we return to our regularly scheduled Hell
naturally, as the cycle continues
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WRAPPED!
speakiNG OF EXISTENTIAL DREAD
But they see a post on the network. And Sans... the Sans they knew was always two steps ahead. Grinning and winking and dropping his little hints. Always deliberate. Always letting them know he was in on the joke. So they see that accidental video, and they find themselves sweating whether it was really an accident or not. Hard to imagine someone who seems to be everywhere and know everything does things by accident. Hard to imagine the immovable object stumbling on such a basic level.
Maybe he's... testing them? Asking something of them? The video showed flowers. When they ran, he asked them to tell him the name of the flowers. Is that a hint? An expectation for them to meet? Will he be upset with them if they ignore it? Surely he'd be upset with them if it wasn't, and they just show up uninvited. Everyone's doing kind of badly. Could use a break. Chara's mere presence has this funny way of being sort of the complete opposite of a break.
They waste far too much time on agonizing over whether it'll be more of a failure to hunt him down or to give him space. Shouldn't care at all. Wish they were the type who could default to inaction like he does. Just keep lying in bed.
But Frisk is worrying about him.
And Chara's... well, whatever. Chara's a restless soul (or lack thereof, badum-tssht). Better to do something. Better to face the things they'd rather put off thinking about. Tear off the band-aid, get it over with. So they settle on a compromise: they warn him, as best as they can. They don't even know if he'll be checking for responses - probably not, if he can't be bothered to answer people who are much more deserving of an answer than Chara is. But they reply anyway, let him know they'll be roaming. He can teleport. If he doesn't want to be found by them, they're sure he won't be.
He might not be found by them even if he wants to. There wasn't much in the shot; mostly just the ground, some flowers, a few rocks. They guess it's probably in the woods. Not so much because they can see a lot of trees in that little bit of accidental footage, but because the place he told them about when they needed to run was in the woods. They remember months ago, when their emotions flicked wildly from on to off to on again, and he advised Chara and Frisk to stay in the woods, away from people, until it blew over.
("don't be so damn stupid," he told them. "yeah. it's all about you, isn't it? always just about you." It was the only time they'd ever heard him angry.)
But the woods are a big place, and while Chara can identify Queen Anne's Lace and poppies and daisies, that doesn't mean they know the spot where they grow. It takes time. It takes a long time. If they didn't have the strong, spry legs that can let a child hike all the way up a mountain, they think they'd be aching by now. Still... determination, right?
They're starting to wish they'd brought a water bottle, maybe a flashlight, because who knows how deep they are by now, and they really don't have any idea where they're even going, and they're not 100% confident on the route back out of the woods, but they finally stumble onto a place where the trees thin out. A clearing. A meadow.
They can see little dots of vermillion from here. Poppies. Tiny pixels of white. Queen Anne's Lace. Dots of white and... ha ha. Gold. Daisies.
* Found him.
They stop where they are, still within the border marked by the trees. Look around at the forest floor. There's a fallen branch there, dry and forgotten - they stomp on it. It's not the echoing, resounding crack of a stick so big a child had no chance of even moving it, but it's a noise that suggests something's among the trees. No whoopie cushion in their hand, no new friends, but everyone loves a callback.
oH JOY
Maybe he thought it would be a good idea for people to know he wasn't off dead somewhere. Or maybe he was just tired. Whatever.
He hasn't checked the network in hours. Nor has he moved. The great thing about being a skeleton is you don't have to deal with pesky things like limbs falling asleep. Your joints tend to lock up a bit as you get older, but whatever. Either way, it means you can sit in one place for hours or days and not have to move an inch.
There's rustling from the edge of the trees, the telltale sounds of someone making their way through undergrowth. He's alert, even if he doesn't look it, though he's certainly not fully alert. Someone is coming. Oh well. So much for alone time.
They make no move to approach, though, and a few moments later there's a loud crack. A stick breaking, though for a split second he thinks it might be a bone, though he isn't sure why. Movement through the trees, then silence, then a stick breaking. Seems deliberate.
He lifts his head slightly. Turns to peer in the direction of the sound.
Chara, huh?
It's funny. A few months back, him and Chara being alone in the woods with potentially no one for miles would have been very concerning. Right now, even if he was able to feel things normally right now, it's not. Even if they tried to kill him just a few days ago.
There's probably something wrong with him.
Did they deliberately snap that stick to remind him of breaking bones? Or is it some kind of reference? He snaps a big stick right before he meets the human outside of Snowdin. Watches the shiver run up their spine. Sometimes they freeze, or turn back around, and he ducks into the trees, watching as they investigate the broken stick.
More of a log, really.
He'll never tell anyone that there was already a pretty big crack in it. Not hard to break.
He settles his head back on his arms. If they want to come, they'll come. If they want to go, they'll go. Whatever.
let the fun times commence
So... what now? How do they approach this?
"TEXT FRISK BACK, YOU SOGGY LUNCHBAG," They shout from clear across the meadow.
That works, probably.
"They're having an extremely public nervous breakdown because you won't talk to them, and I'm frankly embarrassed for them," Chara adds, helpfully.
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"Soggy lunchbag," though, that's a pretty great insult. He can't help a soft snort at that. Sums him up rather thoroughly.
Text Frisk back. They must have been messaging him. His phone is in his pocket and he hasn't even looked at it in hours. Why would they be texting him? Because of that random post he made?
It occurs to him way too late that he probably shouldn't have let that thing post. He can't even remember most of the content, but there were probably flowers involved, and flowers have come to mean some pretty terrible things for all three of them.
Or rather, flowers already meant some pretty terrible things for those two. Now Sans is in on it.
He can imagine it. Sans has seen Frisk send text after frantic text. They're probably worried. Probably feel awful. Like maybe they drove him out here.
He still doesn't check his phone.
"maybe you should be with them." He doesn't raise his voice all that much, but it still carries. The meadow is quiet but for some insects and birdsong.
"tell them you found me and i'm fine. not mad at anyone. just needed to think."
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Maybe he doesn't get that.
Nobody ever gets it.
Chara folds their arms, looks away, leans against the trunk of a tree. Loiters in place. They went to all the trouble of finding him. Why should they go anywhere until they see him put Frisk's anxiety to rest? Until they... do whatever else it is they came all this way to do?
"Do you want to know what those flowers are called?" They yell, a minute later.
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He just desperately needs lazy right now.
Chara just sort of hovers nearby, not even bothering to enter the meadow. They came out all this way. They probably won't leave until they get whatever it is they want. It's nice of them to not come any closer, though.
He doesn't move or react to what they've said except to shift slightly, resting his hand on the phone in his pocket. He should check it at least. See what the damage is. Chara used the word breakdown. It can't be good.
He's supposed to be a damn grown-up. He's supposed to be looking out for these kids. And it just seems like all he does is make it worse, even when he's out here doing nothing at all.
He peers at the nearest flower, a tall stem ending in a spray of tiny white flowers. It almost looks like the inside of a bone, with all the small holes and crevices, the porousness giving an almost lace-like quality.
It's pretty.
"how many of 'em are poisonous?"
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There's the Sans they know.
The wink and the nod. The subtle hint. He knows. How does he know? How does he always know everything? Why are there never any secrets from adults like him?
...Frisk? Did Frisk... he didn't know when he saw the entry, they're sure of that. Why would you make the last thing a person hears before they die "technically you're a stranger to the people you love and your identity is a meaningless illusion?" Unless that was intentional. Unless that was a grander, more roundabout get dunked on.
Chara doesn't know. They hate that he knows. Who gave him the right to know? What, next he's gonna mention that he totally watched those old VHS tapes with Alphys, he knows they did something "cowardly" and just also doesn't care? Maybe he's just gonna start chatting about the plan. Maybe he'll just go and drop the names of their surface parents, talk about how he knows Chara was unlovable and awful before they fell too! Nothing's off-limits, right?
They're kind of glad they're keeping such a ridiculous distance between them and him now. They shift their hands behind their back, pinned between their body and the bark of a tree, so he can't see the white-knuckled fists clenching, can't see digging nails into their wrist to try and force them to keep a lid on themselves. A reaction would be exactly what he wants, wouldn't it? Maybe this whole thing was exactly what he wanted. Maybe he lured them out here, laid a trap because he knows them. Knows that when he speaks in hints, they learn to look for hints every time he speaks. Knows that they're the kind of person who just can't leave things be. Know that because they can, they have to.
Chara just smiles. Tilts their head.
"Golly, that's a morbid thing to ask! How would I know something like that, Sans?"
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He caught them off guard and he didn't even really mean to. He's too tired for layers and levels and doublespeak and mind games. He's too tired for chess. He's done.
"don't worry. frisk's a good friend. they didn't say anything. i had to go to the library and look it up myself. you know, i don't know a thing about flowers."
He reaches out and very gently pokes the edge of a Queen Anne's lace blossom. The flower wobbles.
Protect them, and watch over them, will you not? Only it's Frisk's voice saying the words this time.
Honestly, he'd think they would have chosen a more efficient, quicker method. They probably just defaulted to what they know, and Chara knows flowers. They'd know which ones were poisonous.
"did you know hydrangeas are poisonous, too? i thought that place was safe. i thought i was sending you to a safe place."
Just a quiet spot to think, to be away from everyone, to adjust to Asriel's presence at their own pace. Far enough away from the mansion that people would have a hard time finding it. But he knew exactly where it was. Could have gone right to Chara if anything went wrong. Asked them to tell him what the flowers were, just so they'd have an excuse to message him. Just so he'd have an excuse to make sure they were okay.
He's done with games.
"you won't believe me," he says, his voice going quiet, "or you'll just think it's ridiculous. it might have been a pun, but it wasn't a joke. and it wasn't me trying to save my skin. it was the truth."
Sans, telling the truth. That's your cue to laugh.
"i'm glad you're still here."
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ok so napstablook doesn't know what they are but QUEEN ANNE'S LACE IS MY FAVORITE FLOWER
They stare at the post-it note for a good two minutes, knowing what it means but afraid of going outside. It's much easier to view the windows as paintings or television screens, ignoring the fact that the surface, or well, something like the surface, is actually out there.
The outdoors are terrifying. They feel dizzy looking at the sky, the clouds are way too high and they feel like the blue of it might swallow them whole if they aren't careful. But they have a mission, so they tear their eyes away from that horribly vast sky and look, instead, at the flowers.
These are the wrong flowers. And the wrong grass. and there are stone pathways. This is the garden. They leave the garden and look for the right flowers. There are hills, but the grass is wrong. They can also see - oh god, that's too much water there isn't an end to it, there's almost as much water as there is sky.
But Sans was not in water, so they turn away, ignoring the ocean as well as the sky, and they float towards the trees, seeing some white flowers that might be the right ones.
It takes them a while to find him, but they do like the forrest. The trees provide a much-needed ceiling between them and the sky. they see the right flowers in patches, here and there, following the patches as they become more common. They find the clearing and make a point to stare at the grass as they approach the rocks, looking for the skeleton. They're carrying a Walkman CD player, two sets of headphones, a headphone splicer, and a small folio.
"hey..."
SAME HOLY SHIT
It was the same in the Underground, really. He's not surprised. It's just so exhausting.
Napstablook is the last person he expects to see out here. They hadn't seemed all that keen on the entire idea of the Surface, and out here in the wilderness is about as Surface as you can get. He doesn't look up when they approach or even move to acknowledge their presence.
"hey."
I LIVE IN FL SO I DON'T GET TO SEE THEM OFTEN I HAVEN'T SEEN ONE IN 1 1/2 YEARS
"i uh.... i don't really know what happened but.... um....
you sounded like you could um... could use some company...
it's... ok if you'd rather me leave you alone, though...
if you don't though i have um... music... and i can listen if you want to talk...."
ahhhhh come visit the great northeast :3
He considers the offer. He wants to be alone. He wants to rest. Just think, or maybe not think about anything. But...Napstablook is relatively easy to be around, not demanding or noisy. Their music is good. And the ghosts have that tradition of theirs...something about lying on the floor. Anything that involves lying on the floor sounds great in Sans's book.
After a moment, he sighs.
"music's okay."
pls tbh, i miss fireflies
"what would you like? i have, um, new age, jazz, muzak, classical, rock, chiptunes...um....rhythm and blues.... electronic dance music.... um..."
they pause.
"i'm not sure what genre 'instant immersion: introduction to japanese' is but i have four discs of that. they sound like a cool band, but they might be pretty obscure...."
ahhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck i love those guys we have them everywhere here
He probably went home. Everyone does eventually, right?
"something calm."
He doesn't know half the genres Napstablook mentioned, anyway.
"you can pick. you'd know better than me."
i miss them so much i had to work through summer so i didn't get to see them this year;;;
nooo come back next year ;;
And this is...nice. Not what he'd typically listen to, but it's still...nice. Honestly, for all that he didn't want to be around people for awhile, this is sort of exactly what he needed. Just lying in the grass with a ghost who's probably about as much of a mess as he is, watching clouds and listening to weird, quiet music.
It's nice.
"thanks."
He's not sure if Napstablook will even hear him. Oh well.
here's hoping, i'd love to do a road trip all over some day