Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?

[oceantier]

Who: Greg, then open to Agent Apartment residents
What: Lapis confronts Greg about the things she's learned from Steven; life with Agent Apartment residents
Where: Beach, then Agent Apartment
When: Early April
Warnings: Angry blue lady.


A. Closed to Greg - She's waiting there for Greg when he comes -- a blue wraith in the near-darkness, stepping out from behind the rocks when she's sure he's alone. The ocean is restless that night, with a smell of a storm rolling in from the sea; the waves fidget, lashing against the sands in fitful bursts like energy just barely contained.

There are things she needs to discuss with him. She's been waiting.

B. Open to Agent Apartment - With the combination of the city being so close to the sea and the wet season upon them, it's not infrequent that Lapis -- or rather, Luna -- comes to Agent Apartment damp . . . even dripping. Find her when she comes in the door, or when she's dryer (hair much fluffier) and herself again, curling up in a corner of the couch with a minute sigh of what could be pleasure/relief.

She never makes a big deal of her presence; she generally settles in to watch whatever action is currently going on, leaning on the couch arm with a half-smile, her legs tucked up underneath her.

C. Closed to Steven - She gets to see him almost regularly now -- generally later into the evening, when practices are complete and most of the rest of the dancers are packing up or in the showers. Unnoticed, Lapis separates from the others, heading off. (The others are already convinced that Luna is a little stuck up, never staying and talking or going out afterwards with them. Lapis herself has barely noticed.)

She heads off to the designated meeting spot -- a quiet corner in one of the empty practice rooms, readily out of sight of the door. Legs tucked up underneath her skirts, she sits waiting for him, rolling a bit of the fabric between her fingers.

Today there's a woven bag beside her. She's hoping what's inside will lift his spirits.

D. Closed to Frisk - I want to bring him back before Papyrus knows.

The words haven't quite left Lapis since Papyrus appeared in the apartment. At first it's merely something to tuck away -- something to check on with Frisk once they reappear, something to resolve and put aside.

The problem is that Frisk doesn't reappear.

Even that wouldn't completely be a worry; Frisk is often out and about the city, and between their intermittent stops in Agent Apartment and Lapis', missing each other is par for the course.

The bigger problem is that word comes through that Sans has been captured.

And Frisk doesn't return.

Those two facts are what prompt Lapis to move. Though she can't take time off practice, she takes time from the spa, using the extra hours to comb places they tend to be or that she thinks would attract them.

Maybe it's nothing.

But she can't get rid of the echo of the words in her own head.

The warehouse is one of the last places she checks. It doesn't rate high on the list of places she might expect them to be, abandoned long ago and used only for the briefest of intervals. But. She's checked so many other places, and this can't be left from the list.

Her feet are light, barely audible as she steps into the space. The vastness of it stretches over her, around her -- makes her wary. For a moment she lingers close to the door, one hand still on the knob.

Calling quietly: "Hello?"

Comments

[panspermia]

When he catches sight of her, there's no longer the surprise or wariness of past encounters. Instead, Greg greets Lapis with a warm (if weary) smile. He knows this is where she likes to hang around, and some small part of him even looks forward to the possibility of seeing her.

The thought that she may not feel the same right now never occurs to him.

"Hey there. Feeling a little blue?"

[oceantier]

She doesn't laugh, too still, eyes too dark, too focused on his face.

It's probably only then that he'll see the water back near the rocks, silvery and rising, collecting and re-forming . . .

Until there's an echo of who he should be stepping out of the puddle and facing him back across the expanse -- an older Greg made completely of water, face set in a grim mask.

He won't have long to look until the water clone rushes forward, aiming to knock him down and pin him to the sand.

[panspermia]

The thought that something may be wrong stars to process right before he catches sight of the water rising up, unnaturally shifting to form a figure--unfamiliar, unknown to him, but...

...but not really.

Greg hasn't collected any memory of his own face, his true face, but in that moment he knows that's surely what he's looking at. The shock of realization is enough to keep him from getting out more than a short cry of surprise before he's been pinned down against the beach.

"Wh... what..." The watery grip on him is unyielding and cold, and panic flutters in his throat. He tries to look away, to focus on Lapis so he doesn't have to stare back at this icy-cold reminder. "L-Lapis, what the hey is this?!"

[oceantier]

"It was you."

Lapis' voice is as icy as the water clone that holds him as she steps forward. "They took him because of you."

The water clone's fist slams into the sand near Greg's head -- not trying to hit Greg, but to emphasize, sending a shower of icy droplets raining down on him. The fist quickly regathers, re-forms as it was.

B

[missknight]

[Whenever Lapis comes back, there's always one constant at least: the large lion taking up an obnoxious amount of space in the living room, whether Connie is there as well or not.]

[The good news is that, after things were settled down at the beach, he's been content to open one eye at her, grunt, and then simply go back to dozing.]

[Today is no different, but his acknowledging noise draws Connie out of the kitchen where she'd been making lunch and pauses.]

Oh. Um. Welcome back.

[oceantier]

Hello.

[Lapis and Connie have brokered their peace, but Lapis still isn't quite sure what to make of her yet.]

[And even less sure of the large, pink lion who grunts at her entrance, even though he goes back to sleep. Lapis has paused at the grunt, halting, staring at him on the floor. She keeps a side eye on him even when he decides to go back to sleep.]

[Meanwhile, it's a rare day off. No spa today, and rehearsal isn't until later. While she doesn't usually come to the apartment during the day, the beach isn't a good option until late, and the quiet of the apartment and its people are much better.]

[. . . The silence lingers, though. Conversation is hard with someone you don't know well.]

[Information, at least, is a way to get into it.]

I should . . . share some things with you.

[missknight]

[Conversation is very hard with someone you don't know well. Connie seems to be having the same problem as she awkwardly shifts on the tiles, hands curling against each other. Pure relief shows on her face when Lapis breeches the silence.]

[A sharp eager nod.]

About Steven, or... just in general?

[oceantier]

About . . . Greg.

[Should . . . they sit? Stand? What do.]

Mostly.

B

[determinate]

[When Lapis comes, Frisk is messing around on their dance pad that they acquired from somewhere or other, I guess. You'd think they'd get tired of playing dancing games, given that they've got free access to one at their work, but they don't actually get to play on it all that often on their breaks; it's a popular machine and usually in use.]

[oceantier]

[Properly blue again, Lapis perches at the edge of the couch -- as though she means to curl up as usual, but has paused with interest at what Frisk is up to.]

That's . . . like one of your machines where you work. Isn't it?

[She saw them once or twice, glancing into Pizza Planet on her way past, curious if she could catch sight of Frisk. She's never quite made it through the door, though; it gets pretty darn chaotic in there, and she can hear the noise sometimes through the windows. Not a good place for an anxious, wary Gem.]

[But the machine that looked like this . . . it's always been interesting.

[determinate]

[Frisk nods, miming first a large machine and then a small one about the size of this. The ones at Pizza Planet aren't the kind of thing anybody would have at home, unless maybe they were really rich. Or Mettaton.]

Got it from someone there.

[oceantier]

[She's definitely interested, leaning forward a little -- even if she doesn't quite leave the couch yet.]

How does it work?

[It involves dancing. That much she knows. That's probably what makes it interesting in the first place.]

B

[spaghettimonster]

[It's been a month, and Papyrus hasn't run afoul of any of the more obvious sorts of problems. No fights, no getting caught. His strategy of bundling up and using the holo-emitter in crowds and so forth works wonders.]

[But being bundled up all the time is awful. Time in the apartment is time for dressing more comfortably.]

[Today's no exception; as Lapis drops in, the disguise is shed and in the wash. The skeleton's in shorts and tanktop, perched on one end of the couch with his communicator active, muttering to himself (or maybe the voice-activated commands).]

Does everybody on the network live in this apartment...?

[oceantier]

[Lapis' attention is immediately drawn to the newcomer on the couch, eyes flicking wide -- not only for the fact that he's new, but because. Well. She's not sure what she's seeing. She doesn't know what he is. He appears to be . . . vaguely human-shaped? But not human. Not filled out and soft, but . . . hard. Angular.]

[. . . And somewhat familiar? Even if she can't possibly place how offhand.]

[She halts in the doorway, looking very much like she's not sure if she should enter or flee.]

[Though her social skills have gotten better, in the case of surprise, some things haven't changed.]

[spaghettimonster]

[Papyrus hums to himself, looking at the most recent posting. One of the people he'd met before was asking for pictures and stories of all the musicians people knew. The better to recognize them, and rescue them as everybody had chances. A good idea, certainly. But... what to say?]

[Movement in the corner of his sight was nothing to pay attention to, as people come and go all the time... but the way she suddenly came to a stop? That was a reason to glance over. And so, his first impression is blue.]

Undyne???

[Papyrus reaches up, turning the communicator off to get the images out of his sight... and realizes that no, this is a stranger, who looks like she's not sure what she's doing.]

Oh. No, you're not Undyne. Hello!

[oceantier]

[Lapis backs up half a step before she even thinks about it, startled by the fervent attempt at recognition. Her eyes are still wide, watching him, but from there she holds her ground.]

Hello.

[Brief, worried silence.]

Who . . . are you?

[He hasn't done something to the others, has he?]

B

[woomy]

At this point, Agent 3 isn't sure who is staying in the apartment now. She's only sure of Signless and Agent J. However, she welcomes any rescuer and tries to help when she can.

Come night, she likes sleeping on the couch and to save the larger beds for the bigger people. 3 flops onto the other side of the couch in her squid form. She's tired from work. There was a birthday party at the laser tag place, and the kids didn't know how not to run. At some points, the entire party was in their bases because she one-shot KOed them for breaking the rules.

"Hi."

[oceantier]

Lapis does not officially live in the apartment. She visits regularly, stopping by for J and Signless and Frisk. For whatever reason she and Agent 3 haven't connected all that much -- though Lapis certainly knows who she is, and after the time at the Fairy Trial, a little more about her.

The squid form she's still not quite sure about, but her own people come in all manner of shapes and colors and have been conquering colonizing the universe since before Lapis herself was even born from the rocks. A shapeshifting squid is probably not so strange.

She hesitates to sit, though, with 3 occupying the couch. "Hello."

The squid looks . . . tired?

[woomy]

3 hops and flops to one side of the couch to make room. She's even smaller as a squid, and though she's made of ink and shimmers like a puddle of it, she leaves no traces on the cushions. The wall that's covered in streaks of bright green ink is another matter entirely. At least the ink will vanish on its own in time.

"Are you spending the night tonight? I think J brought home some more pastries from the cafe."

C

[tigermillionaire]

Steven has finishes his practicing and recording for the day, and is feeling particularly wearied by it. Things have almost become 'normal' again around the HQ - System Crash has just been doing their thing, ever since he got back. He visits Lapis whenever he can, and spends a lot of time with Pinkie, because she understands.

But, yet, things being normal doesn't feel okay. It shouldn't be normal, and part of him feels like he's doing something wrong by just letting it be. Is it really okay to just pretend that things are okay when they aren't?

He hasn't seen his dad in a long time.

He's comforted by the fact that he gets to hang out with Lapis, or 'Luna' a bit today, though. That will help make him feel better, he knows it will. And with the other dancers gone, he doesn't even have to act like a diva at all to keep up his image.

"La-Luna!" he says, running over to her. He plops down on the ground beside her, his long curls bouncing. "How was practice?"

[oceantier]

She likes this time the most -- time when they can both be themselves, interact as they're meant to (albeit quietly). At the sound of his voice, she brightens immediately; by the time he's plopped down with her, the light that rarely appears during the day is in her face, and she's smiling.

She's still admittedly not quite used to the longer curls, but bouncing on his forehead like that, how can they not be cute? She reaches out to touch one -- a movement that's also affection as the backs of her fingertips graze his temple.

"Hello." She feels herself smiling. It tingles, spreads warmth down her limbs.

"It was . . . long," she admits in response to his question. "They're stricter -- with the tour coming." Her voice stays light. She's not worried about it on her account; she'll do fine and manage the extra focus. It's one of the few things she's confident in -- the ability to dance, the ability to please.

But for him . . . "How was it for you?"

[tigermillionaire]

He smiles when she brushes her fingers against his hair, crossing his legs as he settles in. He has to think about it, to come up with an answer that isn't just reflexively fake.

"It's...okay," he says, scratching his head a little. "It's kind of just a relief that they don't seem to hate System Crash more than usual, anymore. It's just hard, especially now that we only have three people."

"...This tour is probably going to be something bad, though...isn't it?"

D

[determinate]

Frisk went to the warehouse primarily because they didn't think anyone else would go there.

Maybe it's also because this is one of the first places Sans would come, if he somehow happened to escape. But they don't really expect that.

Most of the place has been cleared out, but there's still the odd empty crate lying around. They were sitting on one, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about nothing in particular, when they hear the door open. Their first thought is to hide, and they do, slipping down next to the crate instead and curling up as small as they can. But Lapis's voice makes them perk up. Rather than calling out, they peek their head up and wave into the dim light. Hey, they're here.

[oceantier]

Frisk.

She catches the wave in the dim light, absolutely attuned to sudden movement (and actually looking rather startled and about to yank back before she recognizes who it is).

Her eyes soften, and she enters fully, tugging the door shut behind her until it clicks into place. "Hello." The word too is soft, as though she knows the possibility for alarming them might be just as strong as it is for her. She ventures farther into the large space, trailing footsteps one by one in their direction.

"I wanted . . . to find you."

And obviously, she has. But there are a lot of questions laced in those words -- a lot of concern.

"I've been looking."

[determinate]

"Oh.

There's a lot in those statements. Frisk doesn't know what to say to it. "Okay." It's not like people don't look for them back home. Mom used to get pretty worried at first, but after a while all their friends just learned that sometimes they went off to be alone. If they were gone too long, someone would always come get them, but they were mostly left to be by themself when they wanted.

Some of them think it's because they're stressed over their job - Mom fought with Dad a little bit about it. But that's not true at all.

They're quiet a moment longer, considering their options. They don't want Lapis to feel like she did something wrong. "Wanna sit with me?"