what do you call a lie from a skeleton? a fibula (august catch-all)

[skelepun]

CHARACTERS: Sans + Errybody (OTA + Closed)
LOCATION: All around the ship
DATE: Immediate aftermath of the mission + period of downtime aboard Ximlia
CONTENT: Catch-all log for post-mission feelings and general happenings!
WARNINGS: warts and all portrayal of alcoholism, some existential dread, you know the drill. any more specific warnings will be listed below the cut in the thread descriptions:


(( Pick your poison! All top levels are in the comments below, but you can click the links from the entry menu as well.

These are in rough order from directly after the mission onward. I scrutinized the locations page very closely, so feel free to refer to the map and info there if you need any additional context! ))

Sunlight Room (night) | OT1 (first come first serve) - A few hours after So-Yeon's death, their arrival back aboard Ximilia, and Sans' conversation with Viveca; Sans gets absolutely wasted for the first time in a long time and he's hating every second of it. He may be kind of an asshole so buyer beware...

Infirmary | Closed to Ratchet - Next morning; Sans is hungover af and goes into the infirmary looking for anything to ease his skullache. Winds up running into someone he'd really rather not look in the eye.

Kitchen | Closed to Shinjiro - Later that day; still in hangover land and emotionally wrung out, Sans' efforts to find food that won't make him queasy lead him to an angsty teen.

Wandering Around The Ship | OTA - That night; despite being profoundly exhausted, Sans can't get to sleep. He tries a few different tactics to remedy that aka there a few different spots to run into him. Hug a skeleton, if you dare.

Common Living Area | Closed to Finn - The second day back on Ximilia post-mission; Sans seeks out the other person who's been on his mind a lot since coming back.

Simulation Room | OT4 (first four only) - Sometime between this mission and the next; Sans is going in and out of the simulation room over and over again for reasons that are Unclear. We take a break from the abject angst on this one, promise.

Wildcard - Got another idea? Poke me at safelybeds or just comment and I'll roll w/it!

(( I've written some of these starters in prose, but feel free to swap to action brackets! I couldn't care less 8D ))

Comments

Infirmary | Closed to Ratchet | the next morning (first day back)

[skelepun]

If he was making a lot of noise sorting through the infirmary medicine cabinets, Sans couldn't hear it over the throb of his own skull. To say he'd overdone it the night before was an understatement. Unless he found something to help quiet that pounding, Sans was certain he'd fall ass backward into his favorite hangover cure from his Grillby Days: hair of the dog. And he didn't mean Dogamy or Dogeressa getting fur in his drink.

The last thing he needed was yesterday's backslide to turn into a more permanent freefall.

"Aw, c'mon..." He grits out, frustrated, when a clumsy effort to move some pills aside results in a bottle coming free from the ledge and rolling under the nearest closed curtain. Pulling it aside to retrieve it, Sans' sockets fall on the bed's occupant.

"Ratchet?" Also known as the last guy to see him as So-Yeon dusted herself. Sans swallows dryly, forcing on an easy smile. Ratchet looked a lot more banged up under the bright hospital lights (so bright, much to Sans' hungover chagrin), but he seemed more alert too. Or at least, his ears weren't drooping quite as much. "Sorry for bargin' in. Didn't wake you up, did I?"

[neveroutwrenched]

Ratchet wasn't so much sleeping as he was dipping in and out of a tedious boredom nap. "Two days rest" was what he'd been told, much to his frustration. Time to heal and time to recuperate some lost energy from their last few days on Gyeongje where Ratchet had, admittedly, not taken very good care of himself. He'd spent the better part of his time in medical catching up on lost sleep, sipping off-brand space Gatorade, and eating things that tasted more or less like a compressed bar of unconvincingly flavored sawdust. But he did feel better.

"No...no. I'm actually glad to see a friendly face." Were they friendly? It felt a little presumptuous, but...given what they'd been through, a few prank calls felt like water under the bridge. Sans certainly probably had bigger things on his mind than a few jokes gone awry. Ratchet sits up stiffly, wincing. "What are you looking for?"

[skelepun]

Friendly was a relative word, wasn't it? Teammates seemed more suitable. Or maybe cellmates.

Straightening up, Sans rattled the errant bottle of pills by way of explanation... promptly wincing at the way the sound seemed to echo unpleasantly in his skull.

"Went a little overboard on the sauce last night. Thought maybe I could find something to help ease the consequences." A search Sans was happy to temporarily abandon for the moment. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm glad to see ya. It was a little touch and go there, huh?"

[neveroutwrenched]

"I guess it was, yeah...." Ratchet trails off, his voice quiet. It was something he didn't want to think about too hard. Life or death situations didn't jar him too much; at least not as much as the average person. But there was life and death with all the abstraction of injury, of being well equipped and capable, of life-saving technology in your veins pushing pain or injury to the backseat...and then there was this. Unprepared, underequipped, bleeding out on an alien world in a universe that wasn't your own.

That did jar him a little.

Ratchet looks up at Sans, at the pills in his hand. "That was a pretty tough mission, huh?"