[closed prompts] at the big finale i would tear my face away

[exhumerus]

Who: Sans and a whole shwack of people.
What: Sans’s skin falls off and so he decides it’s time to leave. If you want in, then hit me up OOC!
When: April 13th, 2055
Where: Various places, Virgo HQ
Warnings: Body horror and feelings.

Sans has been laying low the past few days - after another appointment with Silver, he has to be on his guard. Nothing manifested immediately, which means he is going to be in suspense until something does. A couple times that’s meant entire parts of his body melting off, and he has to be prepared for the idea that it might happen again.

He doesn’t have much flesh left, at this point. There can’t be much left to go.

He’s hoping for more of his magic back instead, but he’s never had much choice before. When he abruptly starts feeling ill early one evening, he instinctually goes straight for the bathroom. Instead of throwing up, he coughs up nothing but dust. And then it gets way, way worse.

The process would be nightmarish for anyone less prepared, and for him it still scores a solid ‘horrifying.’ Like his arms and his legs before, everything that made him humans seems to fall apart into dust all at once, except for this time there is just so much of it. It gets all over the floor and trails into the shower, where he feverishly attempts to wash the rest of it off.

When he’s done, he’s washed himself quite literally down to the bone. He doesn’t have much time to get used to what he catches sight of in the mirror, either. It’s done. He can’t stay here anymore. Not like this.

He has to act now.

Comments

RARITY

[exhumerus]

Sans doesn’t make much noise when horrified, unlike a lot of the startled cries that have come from people suddenly regaining features of their former selves. So, instead, as Rarity arrives in the penthouse where is primarily silence with the occasional sound of something scuttling around – which is only really eerie due to the fact that there is mysterious grey dust all over the floor and boney looking muddy footprints in the bathroom. The shower has been totally devastated with mud.

Sans’s door abruptly snaps closed as soon as he hears someone nearby. He’s hectically trying to cover himself in a way that looks anything resembling normal, but his clothes aren’t fitting right, and he honestly isn’t even sure how pants are going to stay up when he hasn’t got anything but a pelvic bone to hold them.

In his haste, he forgets to actually lock himself in.

[sailorgenerous]

It's been a while since Rarity has really spoken with Sans, and she's heard through the Virgo grapevine that he's not doing terribly well. For Sans, that means worse than usual, so she heads to the ViP penthouse as soon as she possibly can and simply lets herself in - given the band, it's not as though anyone actually cares when she comes and goes. "Sans? Are you here?"

Her answer is skittering noises, a door clicking shut, and subsequent silence. Well. That certainly sounds like the beginnings of a horror movie. Compassion overtakes what would be called 'better judgment' in said horror movie, and she heads to Sans' door and knocks. "Sans? Are you decent?"

No answer. She counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "I'm coming in," she announces, trying the door. Luckily for her pride, it's unlocked, and she lets herself in his room, carefully shutting the door behind her before looking around.

[exhumerus]

When she comes in, he's still standing there - everything human about his appearance replaced with nothing but the small skeleton monster before her, hiding himself beneath the fabric of an oversized zip up hoodie. He makes a brief sound of surprise, pulling the hoodie closed around him, the glowing white dots of magic that make up his eyes staring at her fearfully from beneath his hood.

He almost pulls away, or teleports away, but then he doesn't. Instead he just sinks at the shoulders and looks away, trying not to think about how the lower half of his legs are clearly visible and he's probably going to be terrifying to her.

"Hi Rarity," he manages, weakly.

[sailorgenerous]

In retrospect, Rarity really should have expected this - at least, eventually.

But she's not thinking of that right now. Instead, she's frozen, breath caught in her throat, hand still on the doorknob. He's- Sans is-

A pillow on his bed glows blue, flies across the room, and forcefully wedges itself under the door, almost as though it has a mind of its own. The privacy pillow is in place; they're in this for the long haul.

To Rarity's credit, she does not scream.

She finally takes a shaky breath, and then another, eyes never leaving Sans'- face? Skull? She'd known he was supposed to be a skeleton, but seeing him like this is still a shock, to say the least. "Sans," she manages quietly, locking the door behind her and taking a few tentative steps towards him. "Are you- are you alright? Are you hurt?"

[exhumerus]

He was definitely expecting her to, so anything that isn't screaming is a marked improvement on what he was anticipating. His skeletal face is a strange sight - it bares all the making of a human skull, but is somehow different, still bearing a strong resemblance to his human face despite everything that's changed.

He huddles under his hoodie, shaking his head a little.

"Nah. Everything that wasn't this just kinda got dusted...made a hell of a mess in the bathroom, heh..."

FRISK

[exhumerus]

In the end the best he can do is to just wrap his face in a scarf, put on an oversized hoodie, and try to act like he belongs. He won’t be out and about for long, anyway. Who cares if someone sees him? They won’t believe it, anyway.

Right now he has to find the kid, or everything is fucked.

He teleports around with more abandon then every before, checking out the places he knows that Frisk is support to work and hang out. He’s being careless and he knows it. It’s just…if he doesn’t have anywhere to go, then there’s no chance that any of them will make it.

[determinate]

Frisk isn't in Pizza Planet. But - as Sans has probably observed - they're less inclined to explore here than otherwise. Vista City isn't as pretty or interesting in most places as the Underground, and the stakes are too high to take risks just for fun. So they are in one of their usual places: an out-of-the-way rock in the park, large enough to lie on and jutting out from the hill in a way that they can kinda sit underneath it, too.

When he arrives, they're sitting on the edge and kicking their feet in the air, humming to themself. Sometimes they just need a little quiet time.

Sans's sudden presence startles a short surprised sound out of them. Their voice catches in their throat then, and they hop up and run over. He's all covered, and he wouldn't just take shortcuts all over the city in front of everyone unless it was really important.

It's happening.

[exhumerus]

Heh. Smart kid. He doesn't even have to explain himself and he gets the sense they already know. He feels like he should be smirking at the thought, but the way that translates to his actual face feels weird. He's not actually sure what the deal with his mouth is at the moment.

"Hey," he says, and he doesn't bother hiding his eyes from them - two spots of white light showing from under his hood. He tugs down his scarf, too. Frisk is probably the only person he feels comfortable showing this off to right now. "Looks like your friend's chip theory was right."

His mouth doesn't move when he talks anymore, but his voice sounds the same as ever. It's a strange fucking thing.

"...If I'm gunna get anybody out, it's gotta be now, kid. Please tell me you got somewhere for them to go."

[determinate]

Frisk seems unbothered by any of it: the eyes, the face, the unmoving mouth. If anything, they're cheered. Now this is what they're used to.

They lift their head to scan the area, like a small animal on alert. Part of them wishes there was more warning, but they guess they kinda knew this was more likely. Sans wouldn't be able to hang around long as a skeleton. "Yeah. We stole the machines." They're back in the warehouse - Frisk knows the location and even how they hook up. They helped bring them there, and hadn't gone back home until Silver was satisfied. "They need to go to the warehouse first."

To get surgery. Frisk hopes Sans's friends are okay with Silver operating on them in a place like that. They'd be nervous about brain surgery anywhere, but it's not even a hospital.

They take out their phone and start texting quickly. "I can show you where. I'll tell Silver to meet us." Can he just teleport them, or will they need to walk? They've never been totally sure how the shortcuts work.

[exhumerus]

Shortcuts probably seemed a lot more omniscient when he was using them in an enclosed space he'd spent his whole life is. He can get to anywhere he can visualize, within spacial limits he's never actually had the opportunity to test the extent of. Not that he can remember, anyway.

But he faintly recalls knowing almost every inch of the underground.

He exhales uncertainly.

"If you can show me a picture of it, I think I can get us there. Otherwise I'll have to see it in person." Maps help, too. And physics equations. Sort of like figuring out how to fire yourself out of a trebuchet.

CELTY

[exhumerus]

He knows it probably won’t work. He knows she probably won’t listen to him. But after what happened to Haru…he feels like he has to at least try. So, before he leaves the ViP penthouse for good, he tracks Celty down, wrapped up in oversized hoodie and jeans, and hiding his face behind a scarf.

He’s even shorter than before, like this, even if his clothes still seems to rest on his body as if he has flesh, purely by magic. He doesn’t really want her to see him, which is sort of a strange feeling, considering she’s worn a helmet almost the entire time he’s known her.

He keeps his distance when he finds her, keeping his hood hung low over his face.

“Hey, Celts.”

[losingherhead]

It takes a moment for her to even process he's there. She's felt so aimless lately its hard to pay attention. When she does realize she's being spoken to, she blinks in confusion before responding.

Hey

[exhumerus]

Despite being in her band, Celty is probably the person he's talked about this to the least. He doesn't even really know where to start - how much to assume she's noticed despite his efforts. He feels a weird kind of social discomfort as he attempts to respond.

"I'm leaving Virgo," he says. "I can take you with me if you want."

[losingherhead]

Its impossible to tell what her reaction is beneath the helmet. The phone just sits in her hand as she stares at Sans. Second after second of just staring with little to no other reaction.

Eventually, a sound comes out from her lips. "What."

[exhumerus]

"I have somewhere we can go that might be safe," he says, trying to keep his voice level. There's only so much he can promise. He looks at the floor. "You can come."

"...But I'm out of here. With or without you."

LUCE

[exhumerus]

LUCE
He doesn’t give much warning – at this point, Sans is in a state of barely restrained desperation. So instead of introducing himself gently he just teleports straight into Luce’s room, regardless of what she’s doing, his face behind a hood and scarf, and his hoodie just a bit too big and long for his body.

“It’s time. We gotta go now.”

[giglio_madonna]

And here she was just trying to be a good little musician writing songs for her label.

The sudden strange appearance makes her switch the grip on her pen, like she means to stab someone with it, but then Sans' voice makes it through to her mind. In a split second, she takes in everything- his words, his appearance- and makes a decision. Smoothly, like sudden teleportations and escape attempts aren't new, she rises up to her feet and goes to her dresser. From a chain, she pulls the Mare Ring up from beneath her dress and slips it onto her finger instead of a necklace. It's already shining an excited hot amber.

Probably, it's been waiting for things to get exciting.

"How many people can you take with you?" she asks simply, tugging out a pair of jeans and a simple blouse. A sundress isn't going to last when she's on the run. "We think they're tracking us as well, so that's going to be a problem, I'm afraid."

Like talking about the weather. She suspects she should be more alarmed, or fighting this, but ever since that silly little show... She's felt a little more clear headed. A little more like how she should be, she thinks.

[exhumerus]

Sans only ever really pulled that level of chill off when he was taking refuge in overwhelming apathy. Which, suffice to say, isn't something he is really feeling right now. He'll have to examine the significance of that later.

Her question is a bit daunting. Where is his stopping point? Two? Twenty? Keep going until someone curbstomps him? He's gambling with time and lives, and the responsibility of it is already weighing on him heavily.

"One a time, but each trip is fast. There's people on the outside, and they have a way to remove the tracking devices."

[giglio_madonna]

Fast trips, one at a time, and people on the outside- she thinks of Reborn and her breath catches a little. Without shame, she strips out of her sundress and shifts into more practical clothes. A ghost has already seen her naked once. When it comes to emergencies, shame can take a back seat.

"I need to bring the rest of the band with me." Then, quickly thinking logically- "Doctor and Ivan, if nothing else." A telepath who knows everything they've shared amongst each other and a shapeshifter, of course they can't be allowed to stay behind when Blanche finds out what's happened.

[exhumerus]

Oh. Okay then. Sans doesn't really balk at her taking her clothes off either, honestly - he's a shameless sort of guy - and neither does he seem to be particularly interested in anything other than what she's saying. That prospect he seems a bit nervous about.

"All of them? Geez, Luce..." He trails off. He's also sort of surprised how quickly she reforms that sentiment into two of them - the most useful? The dearest to her heart? He has no idea. Nor is it his business to ask, really.

"If you get 'em here fast and none of them put up a fuss, I'll see what I can do."

GREG

[exhumerus]

He’s just about at his limit for time, he thinks. He’s already gotten a bunch of people out – an entire band, somehow. He’s done what he could, and if he’s going to survive, he needs to quit while he’s ahead. If Blanche catches on to him…well, he’s witnessed what happens, then.

Yet, he still finds himself going back, one more time. He already knows this is probably going to be pointless, but…he owes it to Greg to try. Or at the very least, to say goodbye.

He appears in Greg’s room with the usual silent shifting of spacetime, his head bent forward and covered with a scarf and his hood. Maybe Greg will understand what happened without explanation – maybe he’ll just show him. He doesn’t know. Part of him is bracing for Greg to be far gone enough that he turns on him, just because that seems like something appropriately awful to happen in response to Sans trying to be kind.

Despite all his frustrations, he wants to be gentle. He speaks quietly.

“Hey. Greg.”

[panspermia]

Greg's working, caught up in songwriting and distracted. With the huge tour coming up, he has little time for anything but the music. If he can make this work, if he can make the label happy, if he can be useful, he...

There's a jerk of surprise at Sans' voice. It's not surprising he's not alone in his room; he knows a few too many teleporters to be shocked by that anymore. No, he's more startled that Sans came to see him again at all. He whirls on his friend, eyes wide.

"Sans? What're you..."

The sight of him brings pause. There's something about how he's holding himself, still and somber, that raises the hairs on Greg's neck--something about the air between them that says something has gone wrong. It makes sense. Sans probably wouldn't bother to see him if there weren't something big happening.

Something that makes him need to hide his face.

Greg swallows around the lump in his throat. "Are you okay?"

[exhumerus]

He doesn't really want to dwell on it right now. That isn't what he wants this encounter to be about. Being like this makes him so nervous, even though a deep part of him realizes its how he's meant to be. It's still different, and it's not what any of his friends are expecting.

Being back in this skin (hah) makes him feel weaker and more vulnerable than ever before. At least in this context. He tilts his head a little, accommodating for Greg's movement so that he can't get a clear look.

"It's fine. That's not what I'm here to talk about."

He pushes up against his scarf, and his skeletal fingers are unconcealed. Greg already knew about that part anyway - it's nothing new. It's weird, how they had almost been comforting at the start, and his feelings on the matter have only gotten more complicated with time.

"Look. I know you're not gunna listen to me, but I wanted to tell ya that I have a way out. If you come right now...you can get out, too."

[panspermia]

If he's leaving his hands out in the open, it may as well be a confirmation. It feels like a hell of a thing to brush off so easily, but in the end Sans is the one who gets to decide how weird it is. Greg lets it lie.

Still, he stares, even more openly once Sans makes his offer. Casual and grim, just like he were offering a flavor of sandwich Greg didn't like.

The fear kicks in instantly, cutting off the option before he can even give it a proper thought. Greg feels a tightness in his chest, a burning anxiety, a certainty he can't escape, that this is wrong, this is dangerous, he couldn't possibly ever make it out.

But that fear doesn't knock away his hope for Sans.

"You found somewhere safe?"

[exhumerus]

"Maybe. I dunno. Never been there," he says, shrugging a moment later. "Safer than here, probably. At least now."

He tucks his hand back in his pocket, like having it exposed for too long makes him nervous. He should really try convincing Greg to come, but it prospect already make him feel so hopeless. He just can't stand to let himself be disappointed here, and he will be if he lets himself believe there's a chance.

"...It'd literally take me a second to blip you out of here, you know. It'd be easy."