lifeaftr | Ruins Mingle Log!

Entry tags:

Ruins Mingle Log!

Who: Newt Geiszler

ohnehalfte and EVERYONE
What: So a bunch of people headed up towards the ruins, so they've got to all run into each other and start to congregate, right???
When: Evening of the mingle log and onwardish.
Where: The Ruins
Warnings: Um...same as the mingle log?

The beach curves up a gentle slope until it meets forest, some manner of building visible through the trees. Further exploration of this area will reveal a dilapidated building of sorts; the architecture is indiscernible to even the most skilled eye. Despite looking as if it has seen better days, there are areas that offer some form of shelter...and who knows what else. Just because it appears uninhabited doesn’t mean you won’t wind up pleasantly, or unpleasantly, surprised.

[ooc: Hey y'all! I thought this might be a good place to start getting larger groups of characters together to do some exploring, settling down, banding together and figuring out rations, etc. Feel free to throw up any threads of your own for specific things like exploration groups, a gathering in the entrance hall, whatever strikes your fancy or that you think your character would organize. Have a party!

Edit: Additionally, there is now an OOC Post for those that want to handwave their character signing up for ruin exploration]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Sans makes the mistake of thinking about that.

About that dusty castle where his skull was always aching, the statues standing in memoriam of every person lost or killed or taken by the Queen, that there were always so many of his brother, and no duplicates of anyone else. Of the air breaking like dark glass, raining ruin and shadow down over Wade's corpse, growing steadily colder against the shattered floor.

Is anyone 'good' in these places?

There's a minute drop of his eyelights. It hangs there for a beat, and then his shoulders and hands both come up, an eye socket shutting. He forces the joke through his perpetually grinning teeth, plastering a punchline over the image sticking to the inside of his skull. ]

What, you don't enjoy your tropical vacation with a side of environmental hazard?

[...shit. That...is not a good reaction. What was he expecting though, really, with a question like that? Newt's mouth twists further, into a full grimace] Nah. Being dragged to another world probably by some sort of powerful being fur funsies or for food really isn't my bag, y'know? [and he's reaching out, moving to place a hand on Sans's shoulder.]

[ Most would look right past a brief pause, a glance down, because if he can crack a bad joke at times like these, then he's fine.

The fact that Newt focuses on all the wrong things is gonna be a Problem.

...Or, that'd be Sans's impression, if what Newt just said didn't resonate with him. Sounds like him from a long time ago, when he thought they still had a fighting chance against forces greater than themselves. Forces that can't be reasoned with. ]

Me neither.

[ He gets the impression Newt already knows that. Or maybe he doesn't, but he gets it, and that's why they were friends. ]

Y'know? I think I see what the other Sans saw in you.

But if you really know me, y'know it's too soon for that, buddy.

[ Despite the chuckle, the good-natured and unbothered sounding joke in his tone, there's a warning there as Sans glances at the approaching hand. ]

[Newt blinks, hand pausing in the air, glancing at his own hand before retracting it, sitting back, looking suddenly uncomfortable. Because that had definitely been a thoughtless motion, and the rejection of it twists in his gut and flickers on his face before he glances away, back down to the supplies that he immediately starts sorting through.]

Ah, yeah...old habits, y'know.

[They die hard.

And it's difficult not to take it personally. This isn't his Sans. It isn't. And he'll have to keep reminding himself of that, no matter how comfortable he gets. Because it's so easy to fall into that recognizable space, like nothing is wrong, like there's no dissonance. But there is, and it shows, now, in the break of comfort. This Sans doesn't know him. Newt is a stranger to this guy.

They aren't friends.

And that, really, is the worst part.

Newt feels something tighten at the back of his throat, and he clears it, willing it down and away. Not incredibly successfully--it still sits, tight, in his chest--but enough that his voice is relatively steady, even if he's gone back to not looking at Sans at all.]

Anyway, hopefully if we get enough people, we can check this place out; make sure there's nothing sitting around waiting to eat us. Then maybe we can get some rest and figure out more details of this specific rat cage sooner rather than later.

[ He's let him down. Sans is good at that -- one of the last things he's good at anymore -- but more than that, he's hurt Newt, and it's easier on Sans if he doesn't notice that. Thing is, he's good at reading people, so right now, it doesn't do him any favors. Hell, at a time when Newt probably needed a friend the most, Sans... well, as usual, he fails to deliver.

Guy like him deserves better friends, anyway.

Something Newt says pulls him right out of his thoughts. Sans looks up at rat cage. ]

Heh. Think someone's out there with a clipboard, judgin' our performance?

[ Bringing a little of Haven with you, huh? Yeah, from what he's heard, the scars guys like him carry with them run pretty damn deep. ]

That'd be pretty sick. Wouldn't put it past anyone to throw us for a loop just to see what happens, though.

[ He's not so sure how he's so sure, but it is what it is. ]

[Newt huffs at that] Yeah, I wouldn't either, honestly. [it's easier to focus on the different subject] Those assholes are always pulling something. The question really is: what is it going to be this time? And how terrible is it? [He sits back again, away from the supplies that he was pretending to sort, and still doesn't look at Sans]

[ The skeleton is silent for a while, until: ]

Guess we'll just hafta wait and see.

[ They have no evidence it will or won't be absolutely terrible, either way, and Sans -- well, if it's all going to go to pot sooner or later, why waste the time they have now with sweating what could happen? Easier to just go with the flow.

Sans starts to heft himself upright, his bag dragging against the floor in a dry rasp as he picks it up. ]

Who knows? Maybe it won't be so bad.

Edited 2017-10-01 12:41 (UTC)

[Newt can't help it--he snorts, but there's a sardonic twist to his mouth]

Yeah, dude. I'm sure whatever creep pulled us from our worlds and shoved us in a new place while taking away our shit this time is completely benign and doesn't want anything at all and nothing is bad is going to happen to us.

[lmao right and he's Richard Nixon.]

Heh.

[ That sounds less like a chuckle and more like a resigned exhale.

Nah, Newt's right. All signs point to a less than benign interference, and if their experiences were any indication, it wasn't in their best interests to blindly hope things would work out fine in the end.

That thought etches into him like weak acid, its weight leaving him feeling worn thin and exhausted. He looks around for something or someone familiar, a distraction or, at least, a reminder of why he bothers. ]

...Probably not. But hey. If we don't hope for somethin', what else have we got?

Who says we don't have hope? [Newt shrugs a shoulder, his mouth setting into a hard line. ] I've been part of taking down one of my seemingly-all-powerful-slash-immortal torturers before; if we need to, we'll figure out how to do it again. Nothing is one hundred percent invulnerable; you just have to figure out what makes them tick.

[ Nothing is one hundred percent invulnerable.

Sans remembers the Queen, horrible and withering in the darkness she clad herself in, that spark of hope and fury that thought, foolishly, that he might (just once) give her a taste of regret for what she had done. The despair when she was scarcely bothered at all.

That's why he leaves that shit to the real heroes. ]

That's fair. Now we just gotta live long enough to see who our captors are.

[asldkhfs Newt can't help but let out a slightly amused huff at that] No joke, dude. But hey, on the bright side, at least we've got some supplies. We just need to figure out how much we've got and ration it that way. And if they gave us supplies, whoever wants us here is clearly keeping us alive for a reason, so there's something they want out of us somehow. That's a good starting bargaining chip.

Either that, or somebody out there cares about us.

[ And that kindles something dimly warm in his soul, the idea that someone out there might not have been able to stop their kidnapping, but maybe tried to help in any way they could.

He hopes they're really out there, and that this isn't just bait dangled before their faces to see if they keep running this treadmill until their legs give out. ]

Speakin' of supplies, I better leave ya to it.

[Newt can't help but glances up at that, though, hands stilling where he's been sorting through--aka moving things back and forth without any real destination]

I'll...see you around, yeah?

[that was definitely way too hopeful Newt chill]

I don't do promises.

[ He negligently waves a bony hand as he starts shuffling away. ]

But yeah, probably. Ain't like I got plans.

I... [it's in him to protest, and he almost does. But at the last moment, for what might be the first time in his life, he bites his tongue. Not friends.]

Okay. Later. [right, he's going to just...focus on the supplies, then.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ruins Mingle Log!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject