☆A little little fun

[iitrebel]

Who: Those who signed up to perform, and anyone else
What: The Double S Charity Concert is go!
When: January 24th throughout the day
Where: Archer Park
Warnings: None planned

☆A Little Little Fun



On the morning of the 24th, the sun rises over Vista City and, more importantly, Archer Park- a series of rooftop parks connected to each other by bridges and overflowing greenery of all sorts. It's a popular on most days to start with. Today, however, is the day of the Double S Charity Concert. Thus, it's more packed than usual.

One of the park "islands" is home to a concert stage, and that is where the concert is taking place. All throughout the next couple of days, various musicians will perform songs they've written about or dedicated to another in the industry. With the entertainment value of the idea and the fame of the musicians, of course the place is packed.

The stage is where every musician will end up at throughout the day, performing for the masses, but behind it is also a rest area for them to either bide their time or just hang out. It's supposed to be restricted to just those musicians participating, but frankly... security is lax just enough that bandmates and the such could duck on in to see their friends. No fans, however, sorry. It's not the most impressive of places, with seating areas and a salad bar and all the pizza that could possibly be ordered, but hopefully it's good enough. This is also where one can find event organizer Jenny around, in case they need to bring anything up.

Of course, no one is required to stay back there while waiting their turn, or after they've done their performance. Attempts to raise money go beyond just the concert. Double S has all sorts of stalls set up, whether to explain to people the various causes they can specifically pledge support to, or to sell merchandise. Can't forget the food stalls. There is, of course, a stall showing adoptable animals. There always is.

Finally, there's one last thing Double S has set up for any willing celebrities. It's a meet-and-greet area for the fans, where they have the chance to meet their favorite musicians. Giving out autographs, taking pictures with fans... There's even a karaoke set up for everyone to use. Musicians can sing solo, or with others from their label, or even with a lucky fan. AKA feel free to get NPC MP here. Hopefully, it'll get some good publicity for those interested in that kind of thing.

Tickets have been made astonishingly cheap in the hopes that more people will show, with anything else being made up by merchandise sales or donations.

Comments

Sans | Meet and Greet | OTA

[exhumerus]

[After the concert, Sans can be found wandering around outside, against his better judgement. He managed to swap out his hoodie for one that wasn't covered in blood, but he still looks like someone on the verge of passing the fuck out. Tiny flecks of blood are still visible around his nose, and it looks like he's developing the beginnings of a nasty bruise along the side of his face, somewhat awkwardly covered in concealer.

Is that guy stoned? The answer is: yes. He's just also possibly developing a concussion. However, he can't let his manager know that, because if he lets on that he's hurt worse than he said he was, they'll want to check him over. Any doctor with thirty seconds of time to focus on him is going to notice his forearms don't have any skin on them beneath his gloves and his braces.

So, he wanders around, pointedly trying to behave as if he isn't injured, despite the fact that he definitely is. His injured arm is tucked into his hoodie pocket like a sling. He'll prove that he's A-OK, no doctor needed. This is the perfect plan.

Never mind that his interactions with fans are sort of slurred and foggy. He's always like that, isn't he?]

[heroforfun]

[Well, Saitama eventually bumps into him, and while Saitama is oblivious about a lot of things... he's pretty quick to recognize that this guy is another musician and more importantly, he seems to be hurt.]

Sorry about that. You okay?

[Saitama didn't mean to walk into him.]

[exhumerus]

[Saitama by no means walked into him at a dangerous speed, but it turns out that a moderately forced bump is enough to send Sans waddling back a couple steps right into a table. With their height different this pretty much means that Sans manages to mush his face into Saitama's chest for a moment.

He rebounds slowly off the table, and manages to balance himself again. Right. Okay. Cool. He raises the marker he was holding in his good hand.]

It's cool. You want a signature?

[God bless autopilot.]

[heroforfun]

[Saitama'll kinda squat down.]

Hey, you okay, dude?

[exhumerus]

[Oh, that's convenient. Sans will blink at him for a moment, assuming he is following the train of conversation, when he absolutely is not. He yawns.]

Yeah, that's great, pal. Hold it right there.

[Sans just kind of starts signing Saitama's shirt with his black permanent marker. You're welcome, buddy.]

[heroforfun]

[Saitama doesn't mind, he's already gotten a few signatures on the shirt anyway. He gently pats Sans' shoulder, trying to get his attention.]

[exhumerus]

[Sans finishes, and then shakes his head a little to straighten himself out - that very gesture making him sort of dizzy. What the fuck? Did he sign the shirt already? He checks. Yeah, okay, he totally did. Perfect. He forgets to cap the marker again.]

Oh hey, sup. How's it going.

[heroforfun]

You look hurt.

[exhumerus]

Eh? Oh yeah, got into a little fisticuffs. Music, it's a wild ride.

[He waves it off with his good hand, just sort of brandishing his marker about.]

Mostly, though, I'm just high as absolute hell.

[determinate]

[Eventually, Frisk's fake family swings close enough, and they break off to make for Sans. It's hard to wait, but more important not to break their cover.

Even with that in mind, they make a bit of a beeline for him once they've decided on it. It's nothing for them to duck and weave through the crowds, until they're standing in front of him with a sudden frown on their face. He's bleeding. He wasn't bleeding up on stage, was he? Frisk has no baseline for what Human Sans ought to look like - or even really act like - but this just isn't within normal human levels at all.

Does Human Sans still understand sign? Let's just find out because honestly they aren't thinking about it.]

What happened?

[exhumerus]

[Sans is leaning back against some kind of fencing with his eyes closed, thinking slowly about how sleeping with a concussion is apparently a bad idea. Really, there is no crueler fate he can imagine, than having to be conscious when he's feeling like this. Despite being close to earning a doctorate, his instinctive knowledge of human biology is surprisingly lacking. Remembering this stuff keeps feeling like a surprise.

Considering Frisk isn't actually making sound, it's more a general sense of his personal space that alerts him to their presence in time to see what they're doing. He cracks open an eye, looking down at them with an utterly blank expression.

Quickly followed by a blandly perturbed one. His eyebrows raise, and then furrow. What the actual hell.

His heart skipping a beat demands the rest of his body's focus.]

Whoa, fuck-

[He pulls back like he's woken up to find a giant spider in his face more than a small child. Not that their heights are actually that different.]

[determinate]

[L A N G U A G E]


[Frisk themself doesn't look especially perturbed by this. Inwardly they're flinching a little, but they were prepared this time. They know this Sans is scared of them.

(Did any of the others get fake memories? Gold and Silver didn't say anything about that. Why?)

Pressing their lips together, they lift their hands again and then hesitate. They don't know if he understands it. Normally they'd just speak to him, but it feels too dangerous here. Something could jump out at any second - what if they're listening? Or what if they say the wrong thing and make it worse?

Nevermind. They don't need all that. Frisk digs in their pockets for a moment and then, somewhat inexplicably, produces a perfectly intact ice cream bar. The label on the packaging reads "NICE CREAM". It's still cold to the touch as they hold it out to him, brow furrowed in concern. However the turning-people-human thing works, monster food's always done wonders for them. That's why they made sure to pack so much of it.]

[exhumerus]

[The Sans of this world is generally way less kid conscious, but even now he feels like he probably should reign it in a little...despite the fact that this is ostensibly the murder child from his nightmares? Where did his priorities go, what the hell?

Well, either this is the murder child or he's fucking hallucinating and bugging out at a perfectly innocent kid. They're wearing a different shirt, so clearly it might be different. Sans is just gaining some leverage on convincing himself that this is a totally different, normal, kid when they abruptly pull out the ice cream treat.

He takes it from them without the concern or consideration he might have had otherwise, clenching it between leather-clad fingers. It's really...really familiar, and for once it's clear on his face what he's feeling. His human features give more away than his bones ever could, with that permanently fixed smile.

He can't place it, he can't remember - until suddenly he does.

He thinks about this weird food, and he thinks about sharing it. It's an odd collection of images and scenes, none of them particularly fascinating on their own except for the fact that they're taking place in this alien world filled with alien people. All except this kid.

A more reactive person might throw it in surprise, might focus on trying to get the offending object away from him. But he just knows that he can't do this here. He can't freak out about ice cream.

So, he doesn't. A few tense moments later, he looks back over to Frisk, the surprise helping him fight through the haze in his head.]

Thanks, kid. [He swallows.] How'd you know I was feeling peckish?

[determinate]

[When Frisk first met Sans, they found that frozen grin creepy. Papyrus is a skeleton too, but somehow he still manages to emote so much more obviously than his brother. Now, though, they're a little put off by all the little creases in his brow and the quirk of his lips. They aren't exactly in the habit of talking to other humans while picturing what the bones beneath their skin look like, so...that's weird. Really weird.

They watch silently as he contemplates the Nice Cream, wondering if he's remembering something about home. Silver'd be mad if they pushed it. But a kid giving him a little ice cream - just like people are selling around here - isn't really a big deal, is it? They cast a quick furtive glance around, something about the motion a little too wary for a normal child. No one's looking. They blend in, being so short.

The careful poise vanishes a bit as they return their focus to Sans, tilting their head slightly at the question.]

[determinate]

...a little bird told me.

[Their voice is very quiet, but they're obviously fighting a smile.

Look, sometimes you just have to make jokes in really not-funny circumstances.]

[exhumerus]

[For one of the first times ever, someone making a joke doesn't immediately get a grin out of Sans. It comes at a delay, as if he's not sure about it, along with a sort of nervous chuckle. When it comes to Sans's behaviour translations, that's gotta be right up there will 'total panic.'

He really doesn't know what to do. This is really happening, isn't it? He is way too high for this. He doesn't often get paranoid because of this stuff, but maybe getting randomly assaulted earlier set him on a bad path. He keeps expecting that this is going to go somewhere even weirder.

He absently tucks the ice cream into his hoodie pocket.]

Are you...

[If anything can freak him out, it's how much his own composure is broken at this. Now it's his turn to glance of his shoulder, wary of the many potential observers. He's already in enough danger in the moment as is.]

Do I know you?

[determinate]

[Frisk's posture tenses, and they shoot a quick glance around again. Did they mess this up? Silver's going to be so mad...

They can't say yes. They have to swallow and their breathing gets all funny for a moment, but they know they shouldn't say yes here and now. He'd have so many questions, or he might just be scared, and either one could get them both caught. If it were only them, Frisk might not mind. It has such a slim chance of turning out well, but this would be worth a reset. Just to try and make him remember. If it was a mistake, they'd probably just get killed somehow and then they could try it all again.

But they aren't the only person who's on a mission now. What if they said or did something different with another rescuer, and that somehow screwed things up for them? There's so many moving parts to this that they just can't control.

......and Sans is already scared, isn't he?]

You should see a doctor. [They've never been able to hide things from Sans, and they can't quite bring themself to lie now. Nor can they meet his gaze.] Getting hit in the head's pretty bad.

[exhumerus]

[That kind of answer dodging language convinces Sans of one of two things: that either there is something objectively messed up about this kid being here, or that he's literally passed out and this is a dream sequence. It already kind of feels like one.

The severity of the situation has been becoming more and more apparent lately. Can he really just let an opportunity to figure out what the fuck is happening go by? If there's one thing he'll chase after, it's evidence to a theory.

He doesn't even remark on that attempt to distract him with his health. His gaze has settled on Frisk with a new level of (relative) razor focus.]

...You gotta give me something here, kid.

[There's something pleading about the way he says it - like someone who is well and truly lost and on the verge of losing their shot at getting an answer.]

Alrighty; see if this works for you, I can always try something else if you prefer!

[liarmonstersnappydresser]

“THERE HE IS, Sans Esqueleto, the man of the hour!”

[Considering the poor guy is stoned on top of having a concussion, Bill's typical stream of consciousness rambling probably isn't helping Sans grip on reality much. The illuminati-themed sax musician pops out of nowhere, as unannounced as ever, and nearly gives Sans a hearty clap on the back before changing the gesture into a wave halfway through and turning to lean against the bumper of a trailer instead. He slips a cigarette between his teeth.]

“Heard you gave that Apemis jerk what for! Good going.”

[All right, so maybe Bill didn't know the full extent of the details, but it apparently warranted a call to medical if the rumors were to be believed; Cipher knew those vans when he saw them. He fusses with his lighter.]

“Didn't know you had it in you.”

[exhumerus]

[Sans shuts his eyes, flinching from the sudden burst of pain that slap caused in his arm. Ohh god, this is terrible. Bill, he is so not zoned for this right now. Not that he's surprised that this guy has already heard and is enthusiastic about it.]

Yeah. About that.

[He blocks himself from cringing for more than a couple moments.]

He made it sound like I'm not the first one.

[liarmonstersnappydresser]

“Yeahhh guy like that probably isn't too popular; I mean SURE he's got that abundance of CATS and someone felt like spending a PRETTY PENNY on his TARNISHED IMAGE, but a cult following of felines and some botched books hardly makes up for--”

[Bill stops when he reexamines Sans disposition. oh. Oh. So this is how it is going to be, is it?

The shorter man doesn't look like himself. He's making that movement; the one where someone subtly glitches in place, what is it-- shiv-- cringing? Cringing! Why cringe, then, pain or fear? Both?? Hmm. Sans isn't doing it any more, but it's too late, Bill noticed, Bill always notices. He smiles smoothly, turning to give the bandmate his full attention.]

“No need to beat around the bush with me, Sans.”

[He tips the ash off his cigarette, leaning forward. Go ahead. Do it.]

“Something you wanna ask?”

[exhumerus]

[Bill is really sort of a wacko, Sans dully recognizes as this conversation unfolds. Normally, he puts up with Bill mostly by trolling him and knowing the more predictable features of his psychology. He's a little more concerned about this situation than usual, though.]

Apemis made it sound like you'd made a pretty good attempt on his life. Y'know, kind of put him in a bad mood.

[This isn't the way someone who feels remorse talks about a person.]

[liarmonstersnappydresser]

"Not a question, but I'll take it!"

[You can never just follow his plans, can you, Sans?]

"See, I could see why you might think that-- and that's PROBABLY because I DID."

[A shrug.]

"Yeah, saw you struggling at that party and stepped in to finish the job."

[You're welcome buddy! Bill would be lying if he said he didn't expect to have this conversation one day, but already it isn't going how he thought it might. Something about the look Sans is subtly leveling his way- Pff! As if THIS would be unexpected from Bill- hey!-ask-me-why-I-have-an-eyepatch- Cipher. It's a tough choice, knowing if he should downplay the thrill of how he feels or indulge in seeing how much of a reaction he can pull out of his normally stoic comrade. Cipher shuts his eye. For the moment, he'll decide on neither, opting to simply stop grinning.]

"I mean, even Bai Shen stabbed somebody that night, you really think I didn't get a cut of that deal?"

[exhumerus]

[Sans's eyes narrow, just a little. Sans had personally just been too half hearted to accomplish much of anything, but he knows that wasn't the case with other people.]

Not for nothin' but...you're not talking about this in the tones of a guy who feels much remorse.

[Everyone was controlled against their will...but that doesn't mean that some decency towards the victims wasn't expected.]

[liarmonstersnappydresser]

"Should I?"

[It isn't said with much malice, but then, it isn't said with much of anything. Ah, how to put it? Bill releases a wistful sigh.]

"Let's be real, Sans, you were there, you know none of it was my decision, so what's the point? Yeah, I could have an existential crisis, a freak out or two, but who does that benefit, I mean really?"

[Mistakes only counted as mistakes if you let yourself regret them. So Bill never allowed himself to regret anything­, simple right? It's amazing the rest of humanity hasn't figured out this trade secret.]

"Whether I make it into a sob story, doesn't stop it from happening, doesn't change that I did it. FRANKLY the more I'm learning about the guy the less I'm liking him."

[So. Why. Bother?]

"But I don't need to tell you that, do I? I'm not the one who just got out of another scuffle with him."