I’ll take my throne, lay it on a mountain

[achievementhunter]

Who: Our volunteer mountaineers
What: Two parties split up to scale the mountain from two sides, planning to meet at it’s peak. Shenanigans occur along the way.
When: September 13th to 16th
Where: Group 1: G3, H2, G2 || Group 2: F3, F2, G2
Warnings: Please note any warnings in your subject headers!


Word spreads quickly in a small community such as this. What was originally intended to be a small party turned into something much larger- and on the day Chara planned to leave for the mountain, it’s not one, but two parties that make off for it’s peak.

Group 1, led by Chara, moves off during the early hours of the morning, seeking to search the furthest part of the mountain by following the river upwards. The path is longer and more winding- however, they are unhampered in when they can travel.

Group 2, led by Ardyn, takes off after the sun has set- due to the needs of multiple members to avoid the sun’s harsh glare. Their route takes them up the closest side of the mountain, which provides an easier path- however, they may only travel whilst the sun is set.

---

OOC: Welcome to the mountaineering open post! Keep in mind the following;

♆ RNG was happily done blind by our wonderful Guzma mun, with our animals RNG'd by Wade Wilson's! Thank them both for all your misfortune.

♆ Prompts have been provided for each group below! Simply toplevel wherever you wish and treat this like a normal open post!

♆ Since each group will generally be in close contact with one another, consider asking others if you can threadjack here and there; nothing says team-building like being a nosy parker.

Comments

ota - what else are you gonna do with an unmovable door?

[justribbing]

"Knock-knock."

"Who's there?"

He's been at this for a little while already, just rapping his skeletal knuckles against the silent, unmoving doors and droning out a back-and-forth exchange of jokes (unfunny and funny and all the things in between) with himself playing both parts. Here, in the deep shade of the ruins, there's shelter from the oppressive heat of the sun.

Not that it bothers Sans, who has no skin to burn, and isn't as sensitive to fluctuations of temperature like most others are. Sometimes, the skeleton paces as he speaks, and whenever he does the little LED lights in the soles of his sneakers blink to life, scattering a riot of color across the stone floor.

"Needle," says Sans, answering himself immediately with, "Needle who?"

This one has to be the worst he's told the door so far:

"Needle little help gettin' through this door, pal."

Re: ota - what else are you gonna do with an unmovable door?

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Seeing what Sans is up to, Muffet rolls her eyes and sighs. Oh, well: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.]

Tell me, do other people actually use these jokes too, or are you just making them up out of whole cloth?

[justribbing]

[ Sans turns from the door, a slant of golden sunlight splitting him diagonally from one empty eye socket to opposite hip. The heat doesn't bother him, though it sharpens all the bony edges of his grin. ]

Oh, hey. I like to tailor my jokes to my audience. Besides--

[ Perhaps he said that because he's testing if her 'whole cloth' had meant to be in theme with his last joke. ]

Doors like these are great for practice. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.

[prettypurpleparlor]

I suppose it does help catch people's attention if you can weave in a topic they're fond of. Still, it's a rather imposing door- it looms quite a bit.

[Muffet keeps a perfectly straight face. Puns? What puns? She's just making conversation, here, really.]

[justribbing]

[ He sees what you're doing there. And he likes it, except for one thing: ]

...Ok.

What can I do ya for?

[ Because she always wants something, or that's how the spider's rep goes. ]

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Aaand she's rolling her eyes again. Everybody always wants something, that's how the world works. It doesn't mean you need to ruin a perfectly amusing conversation by pointing it out.]

Subtle as a shotgun, aren't we, dearie.

I wanted to find something entertaining- I may pride myself on persistence, Sans, but I do still occasionally get bored. And last I checked, you were still an entertainer.

[Just because she doesn't take five different lunch breaks in one work day doesn't mean she doesn't need the occasional breather.]

As it turns out, exploring is alternately very tedious and far too interesting for anyone's taste.

[She would be perfectly happy never to see another Lungblossom again, thanks.]

[justribbing]

Shotgun? Nah, too much oomph.

[ Not that Sans would know -- he's only ever seen a shotgun in a movie. He seems amused, nevertheless. Of all the people Muffet could seek entertainment from, she comes his way? Can't be it. She's looking for something. ]

I'm more like a spitball from a straw, but thanks.

[ There's something else he's interested in, too. ]

Sounds like your hike was more adventurous than mine. What happened?

[yallstupid]

[Okay, but is anyone else seeing this? Like, seriously. Guzma looks around to make sure he's not the only one actually witnessing a walking, talking skeleton telling knock-knock jokes to the stupidly immovable door. I mean, no one else seems entirely bothered by it (him???), and it looks more like a bigger, plumper Duskull.

In the sickest pair of shoes Guzma has ever seen, damn.

Guzma watches the display a little while from a spot in the shade, because he just cannot truly believe he isn't hallucinating due to the intense heat, but eventually he has to snicker quietly, shaking his head, because oh man. That one was bad. Really, really bad. And he loved it. A+, skele-man, keep going. Maybe whatever's behind the door will get so aggravated it'll open up just to tell him to shut up. That would be the actual best and make this whole stupid expedition worth it 300 percent.]

[justribbing]

[ It's actually a thing that's happening, Guzma. And it's fine if he hasn't noticed up until now -- most of the time, Sans is napping. Seriously. He seems to require five times more rest than anything else around here.

And his sneaks are pretty rad, too cool for Sans, and ridiculous enough that he finds himself liking them anyway. That storyteller really delivers, by the way.

The quiet snicker reaches the skeleton, because he turns around and, spying Guzma, manages (somehow) to shut one eye socket in a wink. ]

Knock-knock.

[yallstupid]

[WOW, THAT WAS UNNERVING. How the hell even is that possible is a question Guzma asks himself, as a cold shiver passes up his spine. He's really got to just keep thinking of this thing as a Duskull, otherwise this is going to become very uncomfortable. I mean, the joke-talking skeleton is about as threatening as a stale cracker, but it's just...ghost pokemon are creepy for a reason. They're ghosts. Have you seen some of their 'dex entries? I mean, come on.

But fine...fine. He'll play along here a little bit, since these cheesy jokes are entertaining, and take a bit of the edge off of climbing all this way and facing heat exhaustion and other dangers (THAT YOU ALL DIDN'T FACE, YOU TARTS). Now, does he want to play this straight or be a smartass? Hrm.

No brainer.]

Dang, bro, ring the doorbell like everyone else.

[justribbing]

[ The skeleton turns, grinning.

Well, alright. So his face is sorta stuck that way, but he seems at least a little entertained by Guzma's unique reply. ]

Fine, ok.

[ A skeletal phalanx prods at the wall near the door, as he drones: ]

Ding-dong.

[ He looks expectantly at Guzma. You gonna play along? ]

[yallstupid]

[That is super unsettling, but then again, his whole aesthetic is skulls, so...not too bad. Besides, a skeleton telling bad knock-knock jokes is pretty tame, and the more Guzma stares, the more comfortable he becomes. Not only that, the little dude is playing along. Sick.

There are so many ways he could be a punk: "no one's home", "you better be the pizzaman", "sorry, gone fishing", etc, but nah. He'll play it straight now that he's gotten at least one snide comment out. Let's see if you can wow him, skull-bro.]

Who's there?

[justribbing]

[ Sans isn't a great comedian, just bad to the point of comedy, but nothing makes a monster seem harmless better than being bad at something silly -- except being cute, which, uh, obviously isn't anywhere near to being on the table. Besides working out for him for the most part, Sans enjoys making people groan at his bad jokes. ]

Banana.

[ Does he know this one? ]

oh my god sans

[holdmyhand]

Behind him, the sound of some poor, unfortunate soul trying to muffle their laughter echoes against the walls of the worn down building.

"That was really good!!" She says delightfully, pulling her hands behind her back and looking at the wall thoughtfully...

Her eyes light up, and with a clever hand, she knocks against the stone.

"Knock-knock!"

[justribbing]

"Who's there," Sans answers, promptly.

Who's there?

He knows who's there, it's that sweet girl he met on the raft, back at the beginning of this all, the one voice of unspoiled reason, naive and wonderful, in this whole mess. Sans plays along without a single shred of hesitation, because if it's one kind of person he knows is down for a good time, it's the sort with no guilt to accompany their joy.

People like her, full of love without LOVE.

[holdmyhand]

"Etch," she says so confidently. She was certainly surprised by him at first, on that little raft that they all washed up on shore with, but she's seen some wild, wild things since taking her first couple steps ashore.

A talking skeleton with a permanent smile is definitely near the top of her list, but any skeleton that can tell good jokes (or bad ones), and create laughter out of thin air is their own kind of magician.

Maybe he'd appreciate her thumb removing trick.

[justribbing]

"Etch who," promptly answers Sans.

He's crossing his arms over his entirely unimpressive chest, being a skeleton of no greater than five feet in height and certainly not remarkable anywhere else.

Honestly, there's nothing remarkable about Sans, other than his persistent affection for jokes and puns -- the worse, the better.

[holdmyhand]

When he responds to her in the exact manner that she wanted, she beams happily. Hook, line, and sinker! Master Joke-teller Luna would like to battle!

"Bless you!"

And gosh, doesn't she look so proud, too. Her arms match his and cross over her chest. Bring your game, skelly man.

[justribbing]

"Heh heh," chuckles the skeleton, a little indulgently, "That one's a classic. Not bad, kiddo."

This time, Sans doesn't physically knock his bony knuckles on the door, but grins at Luna as he starts anew:

"Knock knock."

Ok, this is fun.

cry for mom and tell her you miss her.

[achievementhunter]

Well the sneakers are new. They're actually surprised he's bothered with that much; can't quite recall if he'd had them at their last meeting. Admittedly, their attention had been on-

Other things.

But now, they're hard not to notice. As the lights flicker across the stone walls, Chara has to wonder if they're simply reading into this too much, or if getting new shoes is a sign of some newfound effort, on his end.
They hope, they really do, that there has been a change in how long he intends to be here.
Still, Sans is free to continue on with his own devices for a few minutes more, going from pacing to knocking, using up what must be a month's supply of bad jokes, finally unleashed upon this godforsaken world.

He reaches up again. Knock knock.

"Who's there?" Chara responds, from the corner they've been sitting in for at least the past ten minutes.

[justribbing]

Sans greets each day with whatever enthusiasm he can muster. Usually, it means crawling on all fours out of a heap that consists of bristly husks of coconuts and his hoodie in whatever dusty corner of the cottage he decided to occupy that night.

But his reasons...

They're shaped like a man in red and black with a neverending arsenal of pop culture references on his deformed lips. They're shaped like the varied forms inked on a scientist's skin, a man who has more doctorates than Sans could ever dream of. They're shaped like a ramshackle cottage with holes in its roof, something Sans would like, on some small corner of his thoughts, to turn into a kind of home.

Something a vengeful queen can't take from him.

So he tells jokes to an unmoving door, just like old times. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks of the woman who isn't behind them this time. Who isn't behind any of them, because she had nowhere else to go when the Queen took another queen.

"Me," he answers.

[achievementhunter]

There's no point in thinking about those long gone, Sans. Perhaps if you committed that to memory, you'd live a little longer.

"Who's there?" That's the typical response, isn't it? They almost feel out of practice; almost, if they close their eyes, see hard, grey stones, torches mounted to the walls. The dance of shadows in the sunlight- always worth a second look.

There's no point in thinking about times long gone, either. But Chara does it anyway.

[justribbing]

No point to a lot of things, like the way he wakes up feeling like he's about to say a word, or a name, or something that flits right out of his head and tries to remember what he'd been dreaming about, even though the result is always the same. There's no point. And maybe if he left well enough alone, he might live a little longer.

Me, he says. Who's there, repeats the kid.

"I know this one," says the skeleton, leaning against the door, shutting his eye sockets, "Ok... 'Wa'"

Something here feels a little like nostalgia, but hell if he can put a phalanx on what, how or why.

[achievementhunter]

Of course he does. A smile, hidden by distance and their sleeve. This is about the only thing that they'll never have an advantage in- completely useless as it is.

It's rather telling of his entire personality, all in all. They think about it, for a moment, and-

"Wa who." Their voice is dryer than the stones around them. Really, Sans?

[justribbing]

"Wow," Sans rumbles, cracking open an eye socket to look in their direction. "You're even more excited about these jokes than I am."

He knows they know what he was lining up. That ain't the point. The point is they're playing along anyway. Sans doesn't know what they want -- maybe they're just bored or lonely -- nor does he understand why this feels... comfortable. Like pulling on an old sweater.

"I got a million of these," admits the skeleton. "You sure you want some of this?"