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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Maybe we could. But I don't think we got forever, so, eh... forget I asked."

This whole thing -- reruns, promises made and broken and outright refused, changed games and altered memories -- doesn't it ever get old? Does it ever lose it's shine, its appeal? If Sans was any wiser, he'd spare himself the pain of traipsing down the same well-worn paths he has before.

But, ha ha, he's not wise. And the human, despite everything, is still a kid. Sans settles in, finding a place to nestle where the wall meets the floor, hunkers down to tuck his chin almost into the collar of his stained t-shirt.

"Whatever it is, it ain't gettin' us where we wanna be. That's what I think."

"You think so? On the contrary; perhaps this door hides the key to everyone's happiness."

Or the key to their happiness, which is-

"Or it could kill us. Same thing, for some."

A glance in his direction; their tone remains flippant, but there's still-a change, of some sort. Their words aren't quite as fast, much more carefully thought out.

"What happened to I ain't here long, mister Sans? Did something change your mind?"

Sans doesn't visibly react, which is just another way of saying the question's caught him flat-footed. One eye socket slides shut, a single point of light watching the kid while his chin remains tucked against the collar of his t-shirt. Just a glance when he otherwise looks ready to nap, right there.

"Eh," he says, without shrugging, "I shouldn't have said that. Just wasn't too happy about bein' shipwrecked.

"Don't read too much into it, kiddo."

They raise a brow at him, but otherwise, their expression doesn't change. Staring him down; tone all too knowing, when they do decide to speak.

"You're a terrible liar, sir."

Who is he trying to fool, right now? Because they highly doubt it's them.

"Kid, I don't honestly know whatcha want me to say."

Which isn't quite like surrendering already, so much as another deflection. He's serious, at least, about the part where he said he shouldn't have said that. He shouldn't have. They're kids, they don't need to get exposed to that stuff, or, uh, getting stranded on an island inhabited by beasties and carnivorous plants.

"I'm all better now, ok?"

Liar. Well, ok, to be fair, he's better than he was, and that's good enough. "That guy you brought over. Y'know, when I was taking a dirt nap. How do you guys know each other?"

"Something with a small strain of honesty to it is always nice."

Haha. The hypocrisy of the statement is ignored- there's a difference, between what they did and what he's doing. There's a difference, in what they both usually do, and what he did.

A small strain of honesty is more than enough to prove something is direly wrong.

"That man? I spooked his pokemon, the first night we were here. He was the first person I came across when I looked for someone to assist you." Propping their chin in their hands, they avoid- thinking of his name. At all. "You live together, do you not? With Newt. It was lucky happenstance."

Something with a small strain of honesty to it is always nice.

This sassy lost child, what the hell.

"Wow," he drones, shrugging, "You not only know who I live with, but where I live. Kid, I ain't sure where to begin with you."

But mostly, he's not entirely sure what he'd done to deserve such particular scrutiny. Kids play games, they mess around with friends, they don't... pay particular attention to where grownups live and what they do, right?

Then again, when he was a kid, the only thing that mattered to him was his brother. Not much has changed in adulthood, except for the absence he notices every waking moment, but, eh.

"Amazing. Not only do I know you, I also happen to know one of your roommates relatively better than yourself." Some tones could create deserts. This is one of them.

It's almost like anyone with eyes could figure it out, after multiple weeks of seeing him disappear into the same house. About the only one with any excuse not to is Ignis.

"I organized this expedition, sir. Or did you not notice me and my companion knocking on people's doors?"

...

Kid's gotta point. Not one to pass up the opportunity to have a fun jab at himself, he replies, "I must've slept through it. Kinda like how I spent most of the time gettin' up here."

Shamelessly napping while pretending to be a skeletal backpack Wade had to carry around.

He does that too often, but... hey, he hasn't heard Wade complain.

"So whaddya think of 'em? My roomies. Pretty cool, right?"

"Well done- you didn't miss out." Imagine being capable of sleeping all the way here; they're almost jealous... if not for the fact that someone (they assume Wade) carried him to make up for it.

So what do you think of my brother? Pretty cool, right?
Regurgitating lines without even trying.
"They're enthusiastic."

Enthusiastic. Sans thinks about that, about Newt once you really get him going, about Wade, who never seems to get tired of talking sometimes, and finds himself agreeing.

With a little fondness, even.

"Yeah they are," he chuckles, "It's exhausting. Why d'ya think I sleep so much?"

Because he's lazy as shit, and shirks responsibility.

"They both like kids, so you're in luck."

In spite of themself, Chara's smile shifts, momentarily reflecting a similar sense of fondness at his description. Yes, Wade is a big child. And Sans is an even bigger child; constantly ready to show off his favorite people like it's time for show-and-tell in kindergarten.
They wonder-- if he ever spoke about them like this. Perhaps that's too fanciful.
"Of course, it all makes sense now. They're stealing all of your energy through the cunning use of osmosis."

That's probably not how osmosis works.

"Osmosis?" he asks, supraorbital ridges shifting the way a human's eyebrows might crawl towards their hairline.

"Kid, ain't that above your reading level?" Sans, knowing precisely jack shit about how old human children look, or what an appropriate reading level for them would be, might be taking a low jab at challenging their intelligence, but this is more good-natured ribbing. Besides, rather than just talk about stuff relevant to him, why not give the kid reason to talk about 'em. Even if it's teasing.

"'Sides," he adds, echoing their thought, "That ain't how osmosis works." And then, "You gotta interest in that stuff?"

Golly, where have they heard that line before?

"A walking, talking skeleton, questioning my reading level?" Isn't that a little too much of the pot calling the kettle black? After all, they're not quite sure he even has a brain.

A slight purse of their lips meets his question; a moment of thought as to whether he'd asked something similar of them prior, and a moment more to assess the dangers of an honest answer.

"...Somewhat. Admittedly, I know very little of scientific theory. But there is something satisfying about understanding how such things function, wouldn't you agree?"

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

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cw: suicidal ideation

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