a centaur and a skeleton frolicking about

[vagabone]

Who: Héctor and Foster.
What: Exploration done by the differently alive.
When: Backdated to the 7th because I am a pro
Where: Umui, G9
Warnings: Foster.

[There goes that skeleton, gamely hobbling along, backpack on one shoulder and a blanket slung over the other. It doesn't look like there's much of anything in the pack, and he doesn't seem to be going anywhere in particular.

It's hard to tell what's already been looked over and what hasn't. Sure, people have found things, but where exactly? He's pretty far from the mana pool though, maybe he'll find something that was missed by everyone else.

And he doesn't have anywhere else to be, nothing better to do. The flowers have started to bloom on him... everyone with eyeballs will be able to see those cute little blue buddies lining the inside of his ribs and growing up his vertebrae. He belongs on the plague island now, where he won't do anyone harm.]

Comments

[vagabone]

[Fortunately, it's only Foster's handwriting he'd recognize, otherwise he'd have words for the walking biohazard, bear arms or no bear arms.

...Bear arms. What in the world is this guy? Héctor's staring and he's not exactly subtle about it.

(Yes, the skeleton has eyeballs too, isn't that interesting?)]

Ah. Anything no one's already checked out, I guess. Which way did you come from?

[cacoethes_mori]

[It always bothered Foster that Sans and Papyrus didn't. Whatever is going on with Hector, he looks significantly more complete than either of the skeleton brothers at the Carnival.

The good news is that Foster's experiences at the Carnival means he has exactly zero expectations of subtlety from any skeleton, monster or not. Which doesn't stop him from commenting. He glances at his own fungus-encrusted arm and looks back along his bony equine body, equally festooned with mushrooms.]

Disgusting, right? I know!

[He's weirdly excited about it.]

Or do you like that?

[He laughs abruptly, a jarring sound.]

I just came from the coast edge. It's empty out there, of course. I thought maybe I'd look for flowers that matched these.

[He gestures brightly at his flank, or rather at the woody stems crippling his left hip, and the fat white-pink buds they carry.]

[vagabone]

[Oh.

Oh.

He recognizes those... mushrooms, of course, after being the one to clean it all up. And he wishes he didn't. Disgusting is an understatement, dude. Please never, ever smear your bodily fluids on the poor innocent bulletin rock again.

There's an awkwardly long silence before he says anything. Oh, the things he would do for a drink.]

I, uh, haven't seen any of those.

[cacoethes_mori]

[Foster is used to long pauses, especially during introductions--they even happened occasionally before he was faetouched, and he used to consider them a potential good sign. Now he's more impressed when they don't.]

Would you have even noticed if you weren't looking?

[It's halfway rhetorical, but he won't complain if Hector answers. People overlook a lot though, simply as a matter of ignorance. In their daily lives, in their environments, in other people, in themselves.]

But where I came from doesn't matter.

[Where Hector came from also doesn't matter. The past is only useful if it's memorable.]

I'll ask a better question. Where are you going?

[vagabone]

[Try as he might, he can't help sounding less friendly than before. Almost all the people of Enso have been kind and helpful. They're all stranded together, so of course there's a kind of camaraderie between everyone.

He has doubts about this guy, though. The guy who seems to want to shock and horrify people for no good reason.]

I have no idea, I'm just exploring.

[cacoethes_mori]

[It's really hard to have a negative reaction to Foster that he isn't used to. He does notice, mind--it's not that he's unobservant. He just... expects it, and actually finds it something of a comfort. He can feel reasonably certain that Hector isn't lying to his face, at least for now.]

Alone?

[He makes a pensive sound, like he's judging Hector--or at least Hector's ability. Or just his wisdom.]

Hmmmm.

[vagabone]

[How dare you, señor hypocrite.]

What's that supposed to mean? You're alone too.

[cacoethes_mori]

I am!

[Alone, that is. But he is also absolutely a hypocrite. It comes with being nasty trash.]

But my survival isn't generally in anyone's better interests.

Fortunately, that means I'm at your disposal.

[Lucky, you, Hector!

...don't you feel lucky?]

[vagabone]

[He's so very lucky. It's just not good kind of luck. Somebody else with a blatant death wish, hooray! At least Foster isn't a child--children should not feel that way.]

I'm already dead, so there's not much else to worry about. [Maybe he's talking about the flowers, maybe the fact that he's a skeleton.] You want to come along?

[cacoethes_mori]

[Well, good news, Hector: Foster, at twelve, really did not want to die! The fun part is how he got from Point A to Point Z.]

Do I want to?

[Why would you even ask what he wants? He gives Hector a mildly disgusted look, but--]

Mmmm. If you have to ask, then it's probably better that I do.

[One year ago, he wouldn't have decided for you. Too bad.]

[vagabone]

[Normally, he doesn't get those nasty looks for being polite. For lying, for mooching favors off people, for being a shabby nearly-forgotten hot mess, sure. It was only a question!]

Okay, fine, shame on me for asking what you want. Come on.

[And he starts hobbling off to the southeast.]