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entrancelogs2017-03-10 09:07 pm
punful) wrote in entrancelogs2017-03-10 09:07 pm
are there dogs inside? [OPEN]
Who: Sans and YOU
Where: The True Lab and Rick's Lab
When: Throughout the event
Rating: PG - PG-13, will adjust as needed
Summary: A tiny skeleton walks into a lab. What happens next will warm your heart!
The Story:
A: The Beds - it's easier to bury your head in the sand
So, yanno, this is fine. It's only the third time Wonderland is decided, hey, let's make Sans even smaller than he already is, so at this point he's almost used to it. He even got to keep his memories this time, so that's a plus.
The downside is basically everything else. Not only is he smaller, he's also weaker, and it's not like Sans was ever a particularly strong monster. He's got no magic and no real way to defend himself short of running away, and while the Amalgamates are theoretically harmless, it's awfully easy for one of their weird attacks to knock out that 1 HP.
So Sans did what he does best--he went to sleep and tried to ignore everything.
He's been hiding under one of the beds in the lab's central area, napping on and off for the past few hours, occasionally poking his head out to see if anyone is nearby. Or if any of the Amalgamates are coming to eat him. It's awfully easy to sink into the nonsensical "they're definitely going to eat me" mindset at this age.
B: Puzzles - just another set of ideas
Once that weird old man's post goes up, it becomes apparent what this is all gonna be about. Avoid danger, solve some puzzles, find the macguffin and save your life. It's annoying, but Sans figures this is just about the best scenario that could have possibly happened, given the content of these events. Things could be a hell of a lot worse, and that's given the fact that he's like two feet tall and has occasional bouts of shakiness.
Monsters are pretty good at puzzles, though, and jigsaw puzzles are easier than switch or block puzzles. They're just more time consuming. It doesn't help that he's constantly distracted by watching for Amalgamates, or the weird sensation of being here doing a puzzle and also being somewhere else, slowly dying in a vat.
Still, he's doing his best, and he's generally happy to help anyone else with the puzzles. Collab, bro?
C: Keys - i've got nostalgia running through me and i don't like it
Time to find those keys or whatever. The hallways are more dangerous than the room with all the beds, though, and Sans doesn't know his way around. This is the most he's ever seen of the lab. He's not even sure how accurate the layout is.
No choice, though. He can feel time slowly running out. Gotta find those keys and find his real body, and that means braving the hallways and creepy fogged over rooms. You'd think Alphys had installed smoke machines down here or something.
Hopefully an Amalgamate doesn't show up, right?
D: Bad Memory - and now it follows me every day
Something's been following Sans for a little while now. Something bad. Every time he looks behind him to try and see it, it disappears.
Occasionally his phone rings, but Sans knows better than to answer it. He never met this one, but...call it instinct. A looming sense of dread. By now he's visibly nervous. He's had enough of bad memories lately, and he'd really rather avoid this one.
E: The Vats - i relive it, i relive it
He's made it to the lower lab, and now it's just a matter of finding his body. He's worn out and disheveled and just generally very ready to be done with all this bullshit. There's a lot of vats down here, though, so finding the one with the skeleton in it might take a bit. He's probably also going to need help with that whole "transferring consciousness" thing.
Where: The True Lab and Rick's Lab
When: Throughout the event
Rating: PG - PG-13, will adjust as needed
Summary: A tiny skeleton walks into a lab. What happens next will warm your heart!
The Story:
A: The Beds - it's easier to bury your head in the sand
So, yanno, this is fine. It's only the third time Wonderland is decided, hey, let's make Sans even smaller than he already is, so at this point he's almost used to it. He even got to keep his memories this time, so that's a plus.
The downside is basically everything else. Not only is he smaller, he's also weaker, and it's not like Sans was ever a particularly strong monster. He's got no magic and no real way to defend himself short of running away, and while the Amalgamates are theoretically harmless, it's awfully easy for one of their weird attacks to knock out that 1 HP.
So Sans did what he does best--he went to sleep and tried to ignore everything.
He's been hiding under one of the beds in the lab's central area, napping on and off for the past few hours, occasionally poking his head out to see if anyone is nearby. Or if any of the Amalgamates are coming to eat him. It's awfully easy to sink into the nonsensical "they're definitely going to eat me" mindset at this age.
B: Puzzles - just another set of ideas
Once that weird old man's post goes up, it becomes apparent what this is all gonna be about. Avoid danger, solve some puzzles, find the macguffin and save your life. It's annoying, but Sans figures this is just about the best scenario that could have possibly happened, given the content of these events. Things could be a hell of a lot worse, and that's given the fact that he's like two feet tall and has occasional bouts of shakiness.
Monsters are pretty good at puzzles, though, and jigsaw puzzles are easier than switch or block puzzles. They're just more time consuming. It doesn't help that he's constantly distracted by watching for Amalgamates, or the weird sensation of being here doing a puzzle and also being somewhere else, slowly dying in a vat.
Still, he's doing his best, and he's generally happy to help anyone else with the puzzles. Collab, bro?
C: Keys - i've got nostalgia running through me and i don't like it
Time to find those keys or whatever. The hallways are more dangerous than the room with all the beds, though, and Sans doesn't know his way around. This is the most he's ever seen of the lab. He's not even sure how accurate the layout is.
No choice, though. He can feel time slowly running out. Gotta find those keys and find his real body, and that means braving the hallways and creepy fogged over rooms. You'd think Alphys had installed smoke machines down here or something.
Hopefully an Amalgamate doesn't show up, right?
D: Bad Memory - and now it follows me every day
Something's been following Sans for a little while now. Something bad. Every time he looks behind him to try and see it, it disappears.
Occasionally his phone rings, but Sans knows better than to answer it. He never met this one, but...call it instinct. A looming sense of dread. By now he's visibly nervous. He's had enough of bad memories lately, and he'd really rather avoid this one.
E: The Vats - i relive it, i relive it
He's made it to the lower lab, and now it's just a matter of finding his body. He's worn out and disheveled and just generally very ready to be done with all this bullshit. There's a lot of vats down here, though, so finding the one with the skeleton in it might take a bit. He's probably also going to need help with that whole "transferring consciousness" thing.
no subject
Despite it all though, the idea of being needed has always been something Mettaton loved. And it stirs him back just a bit.
"Sans..."
Mettaton sounds pained, like something else, something more than just this conversation is digging at him. He sounds like Mini. Sans sounds like Mini whenever they think they're alone with him and they try to talk, to ask him questions.
Dad, why are things like this?
Dad, you don't have to talk to him.
Dad, please, what did I do wrong?
Mettaton can't bear to look at his reflection anymore. He turns his head away, beginning to walk again at a slow pace. Check the vats. One of them has to have a skeleton in it.
"The event? ...Yes, I suppose there was an event. I didn't think much of it but yes. I did dream about you."
He'd look at Sans curiously if he could but he keeps his eyes on scanning the lab. "What happened in your dream of me?"
no subject
He doesn't. He just keeps walking, and Sans slumps a little on his shoulders. Should have known.
Mettaton's almost as good at dodging as Sans is.
They walk in silence, and Sans figures that's going to be it for the conversation. He scans the vats, desperately hoping they find his body soon. He can't take much more of this. Not Mettaton and not the waning strength of this child body of his.
Mettaton answers, and now it makes a bit more sense. The timing, at least, makes sense--why Mettaton is so different now from the last time they spoke. Though it's probably not the whole story.
But now he's thinking about it again. Now he's remembering it. The glow of the souls, the hum of the machine, the feel of the chair sticking to his bones. Mettaton laughing.
"...it was just a dream. it wasn't really you." He pauses. "whatever you dreamed about me wasn't--me, either."
He shouldn't answer. Shouldn't say another word, shouldn't talk about it at all. Just do what he usually does and tell him nothing.
Except...it helped, with Frisk at least. Talking about it actually helped. Maybe only a little, but...
And Mettaton is the only one here who would understand the significance. He's the only one who knows. The only one Sans was stupid enough to tell.
"i-i..."
He's starting to shake again, and that's just making him dizzy again. He holds on a bit tighter.
"it was--it was when--someone gave me magic. only...you were there. it was you."
no subject
He'd still wanted to text him afterwards. He'd wanted to ask if he was ok. He'd wanted to make sure that he wasn't on a beach and that he wasn't dust in a jar and.
He chose better.
"...Fuck."
It's a little under his "breath", but it's said softly, and with feeling. It slips out unwanted, unwarranted; he should be pretending this means nothing and yet before he can stop himself he rubs a soothing thumb on one of Sans's legs that he's holding onto.
"That's terrible, Sans. I'm sorry."
He won't talk about his dream. Not unless he's asked. And even then, he may not say. Goodness, this lab is gigantic. And Sans doesn't have much time, does he? Not if that shaking is any indication.
On a whim he makes a sharp turn and goes down a different row, cutting across the vats to give a better opportunity to see what bodies are where and cover more ground. He holds Sans tight to make sure he isn't jostled and then relaxes his grip when he's back to a normal walking pace.
softly, but with a lot of feeling,
He can't help chuckling a little, the abruptness of the curse pulling him back out of the memories.
"my thoughts exactly."
And there goes Mettaton with the comforting touch again. Sans is really starting to get mixed messages here. It's like he's torn between wanting to distance himself and wanting to be there for Sans, and--Sans can't for the life of him figure out why. Maybe Mettaton feels obligated now, after that long talk they had.
What a burden Sans is being. Mettaton is even carrying him, as if to drive the point home.
"it's fine." He shakes his head. "it's getting...yanno, it's getting easier to think about it."
He pauses, because the whole reason he said anything at all was because he expected Mettaton to share his dream as well. That's--that's how these things work. There's a tacit agreement there, or there's supposed to be. He can't be expected to open up to people unless they're willing to step out onto the bridge as well.
God, this must be how people feel trying to get Sans to talk about anything actually important or serious. He thinks he gets why it's so frustrating now.
"what...what about your dream?"
Mettaton turns sharply enough that Sans wobbles a bit on his shoulders. He makes a grumbling sound under his breath. Some warning might have been nice. He looks up, scanning the vats again, and his eyesockets widen.
Well, hey, looks like Mettaton won't have to answer after all.
"there, i see it." He points off at an angle. "one row over, down at the end."
Sure enough, there's a bigger--but still pretty small--skeleton floating in one of the vats. Completely naked, because of course the universe had to screw over Sans one more time for good measure. At least Mettaton can't see his face from this angle.
FUCK!!! [Enter Naked Skeleton Body]
The pause is painfully obvious and his question is poised right before Mettaton moves, which is an unintended dodge but a good one all the same. But... maybe he should... it couldn't... hurt, right? To talk about this one, small thing...
It doesn't matter. There is Sans's body. It takes Mettaton a moment to register what, exactly, he is looking at and then he is struck with the inexplicable urge to... cover Sans's eyes? He feels kind of stupid once he regains his senses, casting his eyes down so he isn't staring at his friend's floating and naked body for any longer than need be.
"Well, you're going to have to direct me in my walking now because I am currently looking at the ground and therefore am not looking ahead."
Why has he seen Sans naked or almost naked so often while being in Wonderland???? What a strange happenstance. He'd wonder the same of Sans but to be fair, Mettaton's metal body is essentially always naked. You just don't think it is because the boots give an illusion of dress.
quiet screaming
"come on, metta, it's just bones. don't make this more awkward than it already is..."
This has quite possibly been one of the worst half hours of Sans's life. But at least it's almost over.
"just, ugh, forward two steps, right three steps, and then forward like ten steps or something."
quiet screaming that turns into hushed gurgling
He sounds more like himself than before, less dry and more characteristic 'dismissive' Mettaton, with a twist of amusement. It is a bit of a surprise to hear Sans call him 'Metta' however. In the entire time they've known each other here, he's always used his full name. Never a nickname. The only people who have called him that are Alphys and Napstablook; maybe Bucky too, though he can't quite remember right now. It's a surprise but... a nice one, he thinks.
Without another word he follows Sans's instructions perfectly, his steps fluid and quick as he positions himself wherever Sans instructed him to go. He looks up at an angle, trying to not look at the vat head on to continue giving Sans some privacy and tries to examine the machine his body is trapped in.
"What is this...?"
aka what sans is doing right now
"you're making it worse."
This is utterly embarrassing, and Sans literally cannot wait to be back in his body so he can forget that shame and dignity are even a thing. God, imagine if Alphys saw them both right now or overheard any of this. Or Frisk, even. The last thing he needs is to end up on someone's shipping chart.
Mettaton makes it safely to the vat, somehow without even looking up, and Sans gives an exasperated sigh under his breath.
"some kind of suspended animation, i think."
He stares into the vat, frowning slightly. It's surreal, seeing his own body from the outside. God, is he really that small and...fragile-looking? No wonder people want to pick him up all the time. He must look even worse as a kid.
"put me down."
He wants to take a closer look at the control panel. He did this whole song and dance earlier with Tim, but there were buttons on the control panel that he didn't look too hard at last time. He's hoping there's some sort of automatic release. It'd be nice to skip over the part where they have to climb up to the top of the vat and open it.
no subject
"I think you mean better Sans. It's what a handsome devil like me does."
To be fair, Mettaton also does not want to end up on Frisk's shipping chart alongside Sans. He's already dodged their probing once and gotten them off any potential scent. They don't need more fuel for the fire.
...don't even get him started on what Alphys would do. Especially as revenge for the blind date with Ford and outing her about it on the Network.
He lifts Sans up gently off his shoulders and places him on the ground. He looks at the control panel curiously.
"Suspended animation? I've never heard of that before."
no subject
Sans wobbles a little once he's back on the ground, taking a moment to steady himself. He looks over the control panel, examining the buttons and starting to unwind the electrodes from their small chamber.
"it's, um, kind of like when certain animals hibernate. or kinda like when you hibernate a computer, i guess? you make it so that something is just barely alive, that way you can kind of, um, 'suspend' it indefinitely. i don't really know all the...real-world concepts, but it's, it's in books and tv and such."
He glances up at Mettaton for a moment.
"sorry, that's, um. pretty nerdy stuff. the point is, it means you can keep something alive for a really long time while it's essentially just asleep."
It turns out there's an automatic release on the vat, and it's a simple series of button presses to turn it on. That way the vat will just dump is body out once his consciousness has been transferred.
He finds himself looking up at his floating, empty form again, and he presses one hand to the glass.
"heh, you wanna know something kinda funny?"
no subject
He hums thoughtfully as he listens to the explanation Sans gives. "No need to apologize, Sans! I asked didn't I?"
What an odd way to keep someone sleeping. But if it works it works. Mettaton isn't going to pretend he knows better here.
"Hm? What is it Sans?"
He looks to the small Sans, his eyes settled on the hand on the vat.
no subject
"i guess..." Usually people don't want to hear about science stuff beyond the most basic of explanations. Especially theoretical science you only really find in science fiction. Mettaton is probably just used to Alphys.
Sans's grin widens somewhat as he watches his body float.
"i never really expected to get that old. yanno? at this age i sorta figured...i mean, everyone kept saying i wouldn't. i wasn't, um, even supposed to survive infancy, i guess. and, the idea that i'd be a grown-up someday, it was...i dunno, i didn't think about it much. but, uh...there i am, huh?"
He taps a finger against the glass.
"i didn't really...try to, either, yanno? i just, um, i dunno. kept being alive."
He takes his hand away and fidgets a little as he realizes what he just said.
"sorry. sorry, that's not funny, is it. i--jeez, i hate this. i hate being a kid. i-it's like i have no filter. okay. okay, um, let's just do this. there's an automatic release thingy on here, so i just switch to the right body and the vat will--spit me out i guess? you might need to catch me. so, so you'd better get over the awkwardness now."
He does his level best not to even look at Mettaton as he unwinds the electrodes the rest of the way and attaches them to the sides of his head. He leans against the vat for a moment as dizziness starts to creep up on him again.
It occurs to him that he's terrified. That might be why he was jabbering away like an idiot.
"okay." He can't quite keep the tremor out of his voice. He looks back at Mettaton. "ready?"
no subject
He continues to listen and his eyes soften as Sans talks about his chances. His family. It's sobering to be reminded of how much 1 HP really affected the skeleton. How it shaped his life and how he looks at it. He wants to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. He wants to do... something for him.
But he shouldn't. He shouldn't do these things and yet... there's something about this moment that makes him feel like this vulnerability won't come this easily again. So he gives Sans a gentle smile, ignoring the twist in his gut that tells him this is Wrong and that he should just be quietly standing by.
"I'm glad you're still here."
Sans apologizes and Mettaton shakes his head. Best not to dwell on what he just said and what Sans said.
"All right. I'll catch you if need be."
He moves to the front of the vat and looks at Sans's body straight on. He hears the tremble in Sans's voice and shoots him a reassuring smile.
"Ready."
1/2
And he really needs to press the button, but his hand hovers over it for longer than is necessary. He's shaking again. What if this just...doesn't work? It worked fine for Tim, but Tim is a human. Humans have brains, and firing neurons, all these electrical signals--the sort of thing that could theoretically be converted to pure electricity and sent from one place to another. Magic and a soul are different. A soul can't just...move from one body to another, unless someone is absorbing it.
What if this whole process just doesn't even work for monsters and Sans just--dies? Or what if something goes wrong and he gets lost somewhere between bodies?
"h-heh."
He's stalling. He grits his teeth for a moment.
"okay. okay, h-here goes...nothing. s-see you in a sec. i guess."
Still stalling. He needs to just--just--
He could die. But he also knows that he will die if he stays in this body until the event ends. And Mettaton will be upset if he dies again, so.
Fuck it.
He presses the button.
2/2
It doesn't hurt, but it's intense. The process is strikingly similar to teleporting--a sort of sideways lurch, a tug, a sensation kind of like falling. He feels himself crumple to the floor, and it's almost like fainting, the whole world going instantly dark.
For a second, he's nowhere.
Then he snaps awake inside the vat and flails, because for a split second he can't remember what just happened or where he is or why he's underwater. The vat is already draining liquid away into some kind of vent at the back, and then the outer cylinder lifts rises with the hiss of a seal being broken. About two gallons of liquid spill out onto the floor, and Sans comes with it.
no subject
But Sans speaks again and continues to stall and Mettaton feels a spike of annoyance. Maybe I should walk over there and slam his hand on-
Sans presses the button. He writhes and shakes and Mettaton's eyes widen. Oh goodness, he hadn't thought of the myriad of ways this could go wrong, had he? His body jolts and jerks and Mettaton is unwillingly reminded of... Frisk. Frisk, during their battle, the few times they did not dodge fast enough and his lightning struck them head on. It chills his soul and anything he wanted to say dies in his throat.
The child body crumples to the floor and the reminder becomes more visceral, images of Frisk lying on the stage as stage lights beam down crowd his mind. But he... he never killed them, right? They survived.
Remember they can Reset a small voice in his mind whispers and he shudders. Right. Of course. They had talked about this. They couldn't die and he most definitely...
The vat opens. His attention snaps from the now empty child body to the Sans before him as the hiss slithers through his ears. Liquid pours out and he hesitates. But he's water proof now, isn't he? Fitz made sure of that a couple of events ago. His hesitation lasts for less than a second. Sans crumples ground-wards and Mettaton pushes himself forward, heels squelching against the watery tile below them as he steps into the deluge, kneels and catches his friend in his arms, pulling Sans's head to his chest.
He drags him out of the vat and further onto the floor, Sans's legs dragging a little along the tile as he pulls himself up straight again. "Sans? Sans are you all right? Did it work?"
no subject
...is that they're kind of a freak.
Someone grabs him and tries to hold him up and there's a horribly weird sensation, kind of like his legs have fallen asleep, despite the fact that he has no muscles or nerves or anything of the sort. He just sort of clings to whoever it is for dear life, shuddering and coughing needlessly. Breathing feels weird, like he forgot to do it for awhile, which--which makes sense, he remembers that that makes sense, and he just--he just needs a second to get his head around the situation. Needs to figure out what's going on.
"sh-shit."
Right. Right, okay. It's an event, he was in some kind of suspended animation, and now he's awake again. Mettaton must be holding onto him. He can't stand quite yet, so he doesn't even bother trying.
"shit." He opens his eyesockets, giving his head a shake to clear liquid out of his skull. "that k-kinda...rattled me."
no subject
Huh. His bones feel surprisingly sturdy for a Monster that could die from a single bullet strike. The sensation pulls him out of his thoughts, out of twisted images of a timeline that wasn't picked and he looks down at Sans as he shakes his head and opens his eyesockets.
"You seem to be ok. That's good."
What an awkward statement, Mettaton! But it's true. He seems to be himself again and Mettaton is quietly grateful for it. The hand that isn't bracing against Sans's back moves to a side latch on his body and opens it, pulling out a handkerchief with MTT embroidered in the corner of it and offers it to the skeleton.
no subject
He takes a few seconds to just get used to breathing air again, still shaking. Mettaton says something completely inane.
"hh. heh heh. y-yeah. never better."
Sarcasm isn't funny, but oh well. It seems warranted right now. Mettaton holds something out to him and it takes Sans a second to realize what it even is.
"uh...thanks?"
He takes the handkerchief and holds it like he's not sure what to do with it. After a moment of debate he just sort of mops at his face, wiping off some of the liquid. A towel would probably be more helpful. Or clothes at all.
It's then that Sans realizes he's still naked, but he just can't bring himself to care. Thank god. He hadn't realized how much he relied on that detachment just to get through the day.
"lemme...lemme sit down a sec. legs aren't working too well."
no subject
Mettaton nods, walking backwards a bit to get Sans more out of the puddle pooling from the vat and helps Sans sit down on the ground. After an awkward moment's muddling he decides to sit too. He faces Sans.
"We can wait here until you're strong enough to move again."
and then it got bad again
He doesn't really expect Mettaton to sit with him. From the way Mettaton's been acting, he sort of figured he'd just leave once all this was over. That would be fine. There's probably a closet around here somewhere with a spare labcoat or something, and Sans could just camp out until the event ends. Maybe head back upstairs for more popato chisps eventually.
It's nice of him to stay, especially given Sans's state of undress. Or maybe he just wants his handkerchief back. Sans hands it back to him and leans back against someone else's vat with an exhausted sigh.
"yeah, okay. sounds good. uh, you...you don't have to keep me company 'f you don't want to. done enough already, yanno?"
He's still shaking a little, though not as bad as when he was a kid. It's a damn shame all his clothes shrank with the rest of him, otherwise he could...
A weight settles into the bottom of his soul. His kid body. What happened to it? Probably turned to dust already, right? He shouldn't--he shouldn't check, really doesn't want to see his own dust all over the floor, but his eyelights move past Mettaton almost of their own accord, some leftover curiosity from before, and he--
Freezes.
The body's still there. Soaked, motionless, too small, eyesockets half closed, and it sort of feels like a hand has closed over his soul and is starting to squeeze.
"why's--why's it--"
Why is it still there? It should just be dust now, that's what happens when monsters...
Only his kid body isn't exactly dead, is it? Just sort of...empty. Just an empty skeleton child, lying in a puddle.
He can't, uh. He can't seem to look away.
"can. can you--i'm sorry, i n-need--i need to get away from here. can you--? i don't care if you pick me up, i just can't..."
His voice stays level, but he's pretty sure he's panicking. Somehow he manages to wrench his gaze away from the body and stares at the only other thing he can stare at, which happens to be Mettaton.
He can't quite keep the desperation off his face.
The story of Sans Undertale
"Yes, well. You only just got back in your body and it might not be entirely safe to just. Let you be alone. Something could happen if I let you out of my sight."
He winces again right when he's done speaking. Lord. He sounds transparent. He feels conflicted. He should leave, like Sans said, but if he leaves then... something else might kill him. He doesn't think he could handle that guilt again.
I'm sorry, he thinks. I'll do better next time.
His attention returns to Sans just in time to see his eyes drift towards- oh no. No. He lifts a hand to try and gently turn his face away but it's too late. His eyesockets grow wide and he seems locked in place, stockstill as he stares at... Mettaton's eyes drift over.
Oh god. It's still there. Why isn't it dusting? Why isn't it disappearing? Sans mutters something and Mettaton feels the same chill from before. That was alive. That was sitting on his shoulders and giggling not five minutes ago and now it's, ha, it's empty, he's empty- (don't think he, don't use he, keep your distance, it's an empty body, if you think too much about how his eyelights were bright you might-)
Sans speaks again. Mettaton tears his gaze away at the same time as Sans, their eyes meeting as they look at each other. He looks so desperate. Pleading. His soul leaps and he doesn't know what to do. The panic is setting in and gripping him tight, horror settling on his face.
Distance. Push it away. Push all of this away. He needs to leave. So do you. You're on stage, Mettaton, remember? Your curtain call is here and your co-star is flubbing his lines. Cover. Reach forward, take his hands in yours. Smile. That's the most important part. You can't let the audience know you're nervous. Pull him up. Don't let him look again.
"Just keep looking at me, darling. Follow my lead."
The audience is oddly silent, floating in their vats as Mettaton begins to lead Sans out and away. He walks backwards, face now oddly serene as he looks at Sans.
"Don't look anywhere else. Just me."
He, haha, he keeps reminding him of Alphys. Of Napstablook. They all panic the same way, don't they? Haha. He always has to be strong for them. He always has to be because they can't take care of themselves and wow that's so heavy. That's so much.
He looks behind himself, having been lucky enough to evade the vats and sees the door back to Alphys's section of the lab. The stage exit. Just a bit more. Push your feelings away. Push it all away. Once you're through, you won't have to ever think about this again. The curtains will close soon.
+1 to ZEZPQB BT FRESMNF IZDVZ BEFVQN GC NBVBW
sand undertoots
His breathing settles a little and then he looks at Mettaton, watches his face go from horrified to--
Smiling brightly, like nothing is wrong. Like nothing at all is wrong, like there isn't just some kid's body lying over there.
Sans feels kind of hazy as Mettaton helps him to his feet, takes hold of both his hands, leads him forward. Sans wobbles and stumbles and he can't look away from Mettaton, can't look away from his face, and he's...he's not sure how he's feeling anymore. Horrified, yeah, that's definitely there, and maybe confused also, and probably panicking, and why is Mettaton still smiling? He's not like Sans and he's not like Chara--right? He doesn't need to just--smile like that to deal with what's happening.
He keeps moving, staring up at Mettaton, moving kind of like he's never even walked before, everything hazy and a thousand miles away. And then--
And then the vats are gone, and a door closes, and Sans blinks. Something just...ends.
Sans keeps one hand on Mettaton's and presses the other to his face. It's done. It's over. There's a kid still lying on the floor somewhere, but he doesn't have to see it anymore, doesn't have to think about it. The event will end sometime soon and all of this will stop mattering.
Mettaton is still smiling, and of course Sans is too, except not really.
"sorry." He's not really sure what he's apologizing for. For--making Mettaton deal with his bullshit, for making Mettaton drag him out of there, for...for making Mettaton have to smile like that.
"i-i'm sorry. thank you. i'm...i'm fine now, i..."
He still hasn't let go of Mettaton's hand.
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The smile on his face feels plastered on. They're backstage now, they don't have to worry about the curtains or the audience but Mettaton keeps himself perfect. After all, anyone could be watching now. The other lab is gigantic.
Sans puts a hand to his face and he looks partially relieved and Mettaton feels relieved too. It's a bit of a distant feeling, but it's good all the same. Nothing really feels... solid except for where Sans still holds his hand.
It feels nice. He's shaking a little but it's fine.
"It's all right, Sans. We're out of there now. There's nothing to worry about."
Nothing at all. No dust in a jar, no empty bones lying on a cold wet floor. No waves lapping at the beach, no drinks dropped into the sand. No text messages sent with no answer. Everything is fine.
"You're alive, and that's what counts."
His voice is still cheery and unerringly positive. He did it. He saved Sans and this time with little to no damage to him! That's good, right? This is fine.
This is fine.
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And he still doesn't want to let go of Mettaton's hand. It feels like the only real thing right now. Normally it would be Papyrus. It should be Papyrus being his anchor, but...
Papyrus isn't here. Sans wouldn't want him to be here, anyway, would never have wanted his brother to have to see any of this. It's bad enough that Mettaton had to witness any of it. Any of this bullshit. He's still--he's still smiling like that, and it feels--wrong. It feels viscerally wrong, like none of this is even real, like they're both just up on stage. Sans is a pretty decent actor, all things considered, but this is on a whole different level.
Mettaton is shaking and he's still smiling. Sans is pretty sure he's shaking as well.
There's nothing to worry about. He's alive, that's what counts.
Sans sways a little and wraps his other hand around Mettaton's, holding on with both hands. Partially to steady himself, partially to steady Mettaton, though he's--he's Mettaton, he shouldn't even--he shouldn't need someone like Sans to--
"y-yeah. yeah. we're..."
He can't look at Mettaton's face anymore, can't look at that plastic smile anymore, so he looks at their hands instead, two small bony hands wrapped around metal fingers, and it's--it's asking too much, it's taking too much, but it's also the only thing that feels real. It's the closest Mettaton has been this whole time, like he's reaching back over whatever distance is yawning between them, again.
"you don't...you don't have to do that anymore. we're fine, you helped me, so you don't--you don't have to. i'm sorry. i'm sorry, i shouldn't have..."
He's making it worse. Somehow he always just takes the worst possible thing and makes it even worse. He doesn't even know what he's making worse. It's--too much, it's too confusing, and his skull is starting to ache.
He keeps staring at their hands for a few long moments, trying to calm down. Trying to stop thinking so much.
"...we'd better...uh, find me something to wear, before. before one of the kids spots me and drops dead from horror or something."
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two hours of shitposting later,
AFTER I HAVE VOWED TO NEVER USE THE WORD CREAM AGAIN
fffffff
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