introductory mingle: FLOWER FESTIVAL

[riverviewmod]

who: everyone in Riverview!
what: Introductory Log and Flower Festival Celebration
when: April 2nd - April 15th
where: In several different locations in the downtown area of the Inhabited City.
warnings: please put any necessary warnings in the subject lines

flower festival

In the days leading up to April 2nd, residents new and old may notice advertising around the city, everywhere from digital screens to paper flyers pasted on blank walls, all advertising an upcoming holiday: The Flower Festival. Celebrating springtime, beauty, joy, and togetherness, the festival heavily features floral themes and dancing. The advertising mentions that on April 10th, a paid holiday, there will be a Blossom Picnic, as well as lists of various public dances at clubs or other open venues, and adult raves.

a celebration of spring

The Flower Festival's main event is the Blossom Picnic on April 10th, but it also features traditions of sharing food and drink, and dancing that span over the course of the whole two weeks. There are a large variety of events going on throughout the city, from dancing lessons in any wide variety of traditional dances, to old-fashioned sock hops, to adult raves complete with mild party drugs. Feel free to use the prompts below or create your own event at any point during the festival, and if your character creates an event and hosts it in a top-level, you can submit that thread for extra bonus points.

i. blossom picnic

The main event that kicks off the second week of the Flower Festival is the Blossom Picnic on April 10th. A relaxed and low-key event, it draws several thousand people every year to the spacious Riverview Central Park, where there is a generous lawn lined with various blossoming trees, and families, found families, lovers, and groups of friends are encouraged to lay out a picnic blanket and share food. There will be live bands playing (but not loudly enough to distract from conversation and peacefully watching the petals flutter in the wind), a variety of demonstrations of traditional cultural dances from many different realities and planets, and a ton of ice cream vendors. This is an excellent festival not only for celebrating togetherness with the people who are already important, but for mingling and making new friends.

Characters may either pack their own lunches or they can purchase pre-packed Blossom Festival lunches. Stores and street markets are carrying a wide variety of specialty food that is only available at this time of year - predominantly pastries, an assortment of types of candies, and ice cream treats all in various floral flavors, as well as a sort of ambrosia salad based around a sweet rose-flavored cream and a native fruit that is bright green and tastes like a combination of peach and citrus.

ii. dancing lessons

Starting on April 2nd, there will be dancing lessons offered almost everywhere you look! From partner dances to group dances to line dances; sexy and sensual or innocent and childlike - almost any type of dance you can imagine is represented, from any reality or planet that has people in Riverview Quarantine.

Additionally, the Riverview Central Community Center has multiple rooms blocked off so anyone who knows a dance from home can teach it to others in their community - sharing is caring, after all. Characters are welcome to block off one of these rooms and offer lessons in any dance they happen to know from home (and these sorts of thread starters would be eligible for the mingle AC Point bonus)!

iii. flower festival dancing

This is pretty simply what it says on the tin - in almost every club, community center, or other public space, there will be dancing at almost all hours of the day or night, formal and informal. Musicians bring out their instruments and play in the street for demonstrations of cultural dances and music at the same time as clubs are offering VIP cover charges for exclusive dances, and you can find anything in between.

There are also many low-cover-charge raves that allow under-18s so younger characters can stay up all night and dance like crazy. The legal drinking age in Riverview Quarantine is 14, and so anyone over 14 can enter and indulge in a few drinks, dancing, and playing tag with a non-intoxicating version of the colored powder featured at the adult raves. There is copious amounts of security on site to ensure that everyone is safe, as well as nurses and off-duty police officers to offer advice or care for anyone who overindulges out of lack of experience.

Grab a partner, a group of friends, or just cruise and mingle the various dancing events.

Characters may also notice that most of the street markets and clothing shops are offering clothing that features floral patterns, flowers as accessories, and that show a lot of skin - for men, women, and anyone in between!

iv. adult raves

Advertised on flyers and digital screens around the city, made to pop as if they were under blacklight, is a series of adult raves that are happening in various large empty warehouse spaces around the city, including one that is listed as the danger rave and hosted in an abandoned factory outside the inhabited city walls. With bouncers at the door to ensure that anyone entering is 18+, the raves are comfortably adult in nature. Clothing is optional, showing skin is encouraged, and there are a lot of neatly tucked away spaces for attendees to get some time alone with one or more than one person, as well as spaces intended for orgies. The atmosphere is sex-positive and non-judgemental, open to any orientation or preference, with various forms of protection available for free, however, to ensure that everyone plays safe there are sober security teams out en masse at all premises to oversee the events.

(CW: DRUG USE) In each location, there is one specific room where attendees can enter, and dance or play tag with brightly colored powder that contains small amounts of a legal party drug commonly available in Riverview, which is absorbed through the skin. Not much more intoxicating than having a few beers, the effects of the drug are a pleasant low-key buzzing euphoria, positive sensitivity to touch, a heightening of desires for intimacy, and a mild lowering of inhibitions. Once a character has been hit with the powder, the color lingers on the skin so other attendees can know who has partaken, but once the powder makes contact with a surface it deactivates, meaning that partakers can safely dance with non-partakers without sharing the intoxicating effects.

Please be sure to warn in subject lines for any threads involving drug use. And remember, there is always security to intervene and make sure everyone is safe.

v. roommates or wildcard

Feel free to use this prompt to set up headers for a communal floor, or threads open to roommates for the purpose of getting to know each other. Or if you have an idea for a prompt that isn't in this list, set at the Flower Festival, feel free to write it up!

visual inspiration

click on thumbnails for larger view

Credit: third image by Steve Goad; other images found on uncredited on Pinterest or Google images - please let the mod know if you find credit!

navigation

Comments

Sans | OTA

[bone_idle]

→ dubious festival food

Vendors seem to put a lot of effort into their work, offering well-crafted treats on stalls they take the time to decorate and make more attractive to prospective customers. Festivals like this one... Heck, probably brings in a good amount of that money they call units. Then you've got this other one, sticks out like a sore thumb for a few reasons.

For one, it's just a flat board put across two folding chairs, with a piece of paper that reads, in a funny-looking handwriting: hot dogs.

For another, the wares being sold look like hot dogs, smell like hot dogs, but have a peculiar, salty-marshy taste and texture that... isn't entirely unpleasant, and has a strange way of seeming to evaporate the moment one swallows (IF they swallow). Sure, they'll satiate hunger and give one a tiny boost unique to eating junk food, but they're honestly just some kind of cattail steeped in hot dog water and infused with magic.

The salesman sitting here is, honestly, more remarkable than the 'food stall', its dubious food, and its sign, haphazardly clinging on for dear life by a single piece of tape.

After all, it's not everyday a skeleton casually offers to sell you a hot dog.

"Sup?" rumbles the grinning skeleton, his voice an indolent, good-natured drone inexplicably accented by what sounds more at home in Brooklyn. "You look hungry."

Maybe you do, maybe you don't. He's trying to make a pitch here.

"Wanna buy a 'dog? Only 2 units."

→ waking up in the middle of a party (adult rave)

Turns out, getting exposed to your first day in another world, under open sky, with the knowledge that your life has (again) been turned upside-down by forces much greater than yourself is pretty exhausting. Having had to beat a hasty retreat from his dubious food stall, the skeleton found a quiet, out of the way building that happened to be empty, but for what looked like half-finished construction and a lot of boxes and cables leading to nowhere.

He did what any reasonable, if very tired adult might do: he took a nap.

Except he must've been more knackered than he thought, because a short crash in an abandoned warehouse turned into the kind of deep sleep where bombshells could go off and you wouldn't have noticed. Huh. Go fig. Maybe he's a little overwhelmed by all'a this stuff after all.

Eh.

Thing is, a bombshell practically did go off, albeit in the form of sustained construction efforts, as the whole damn rave got built up in this warehouse and he, a skeleton passed out and sleeping like, ha ha, the dead, was mistaken for a prop and left alone. But it's not the thumping music, the delighted shrieks and din of conversation that wakes him, nope.

It's when a group tries to take selfies near the 'prop', only for tiny lights to abruptly appear in empty sockets as he lifts two phalanges to flash the phone's camera a peace sign. Needless to say, they were spooked enough to go find somewhere else to be, and Sans, stretching until he hears a few vertebrae realign in a series of pops, scratches at his hip as he looks around at the transformed warehouse.

"...Huh."

Guess he'll go find a drink.

→ this is how you start a war (floor 10)

While the good residents of Floor 10 have been off visiting the festival or working a job somewhere in the quarantine zone and otherwise living their lives, someone's gone and short-sheeted most of the beds on the floor. Of course, unless anyone tries to retire to their bed early, it's unlikely this is going to be a topic of discussion until bedtime, and the perpetrator? Nowhere to be found.

That's because the new guy's decided to get gone until everyone reasonable is likely tucked into bed and sleeping. Those that aren't, however, might notice a stranger in a hood sitting out on the deck during the late hours of the night (or early hours of pre-dawn). Not doing much, really, except observing the sky, or staring at the long drop to the river below.

May just be dark enough not to notice that the stout-seeming, short figure has peculiarly thin legs where track shorts end and fuzzy, ridiculous pink slippers begin, or that the fingers resting on the railing are, in fact, bone-white phalanges. Rest assured that striking up a conversation with the stranger is bound to get a little surreal, unless one is accustomed to walking, talking skeletons.

(OOC: up to you if your character's bed was spared or not -- pranks are going to be a thing around here, but you always have the ability to opt out.)

floor 10

[eyeforaneye]

His bed has been tampered with.

It's not a point of actual legitimate contention given that he has yet to sleep in it. But it's his, he knows it's his, and it was assigned to him upon his arrival. So around 6:08 p.m., when Sasuke returns from a day out, he can be seen first staring down at the sheets before quite effortlessly reaching down and lifting the bed right up off of the floor onto two legs, checking beneath it cautiously. Nothing. He eases it back down just as carefully, his single eye that's visible and not obscured by hair doing a quick scan of the room before he chooses to let this go.

However, his way of letting it go is to head out to the balcony, only to realize that his "spot" is now occupied.

"..." Well, it doesn't stop him from approaching, taking up residence a few feet away in complete silence as he too stares out. This isn't awkward at all.

[bone_idle]

The stranger in the hoodie gives it about, oh... maybe five to ten minutes of awkward, tense silence before hazarding a glance in Sasuke's direction. Honestly, Sans can't tell if he's supposed to be young or mature, but certainly not old; he might have had very, very limited contact with humans prior to this week, but he's consumed enough discarded media to know that 'old' tends to come with textured skin and pale hair.

So he assumes that, uh, maybe? He's an adult, purely because he's taller than Frisk.

Humans aren't like they were in monsterkind's history -- fearful, dangerous, violent -- so far, the humans he's encountered have been almost conciliatory. Apologetic, even. This one, though...

Heh. Well. Guess there's plenty here with some stains on their hands. Sans gives it several minutes before he cants his skull in his direction, pale lights tracking him in hollow eye sockets.

"So, you humans don't get sick of it either, huh?" Phalanges flick a gesture at the sky, while his elbow remains planted on the rail, and the rest of his negligible weight sags into that arm, like it's the last thing keeping him propped upright. "Didn't expect it to be so, uh, green up here."

[eyeforaneye]

There's no tension in his body language as he stares out into a night sky that he doesn't recognize, at least, entirely still and in no rush to find a conversation topic. The silence suits him just fine, having spent the better part of the last two years fully isolated from humanity.

Not too many stimulating conversations are held at the end of a knife. A few, maybe, but they don't tend to be all that long. Which is why when Sans speaks Sasuke doesn't immediately reply, instead turning his head to really look at the-- the being next to him. 'You humans'? Well, that statement alone is enough to snag his attention and tempt him into activating the sharingan for a closer look, but luckily he abstains. One thing at a time.

A pale dead stare framed by bleached bone is fixed on his own and only now does he allow his hand to drop from the railing.

"This isn't your home. It isn't my home. Neither of us have had the chance to become 'sick' of this sky." His voice is deep and does little to help age him one way or the other, really.

"Who are you? What are you?"

[bone_idle]

Meanwhile, the railing is all that's keeping Sans propped upright; he's sunk his whole weight into the elbow perched on it, his cheekbone cradled by his fist. Surely it's a trick of the scant illumination from the quarantine zone's lights, but it almost seems like there's a little give in that solid bone, half-dipped in his hood's shadow.

"...Heh, point taken," replies Sans. "Right down to it," he notes, swinging his eye lights to the drop on the other side of the railing. Sure is a long way down to construction half-clotted with sprawling vegetation, and the silvery threads of light reflected on the river below.

"Ok."

As wondrous as the sight above is, Sans, who has lived his whole life with a ceiling over his head, still has the strangest feeling the emptiness above might pluck him right off the surface of the planet and swallow him whole.

"Ain't it obvious? I'm a skeleton," he finally answers, lifting a phalanx, "The name's Sans. And that makes it your turn."

1/2

[eyeforaneye]

2/2

[eyeforaneye]

"You think that that's more helpful than it actually is." Just so that you're aware.

"I've seen a number of strange things in my life. A self-identifying skeleton operating without skin or flesh isn't on the list. Telling me what I can already see doesn't explain it." While Sans is content to continue surveilling the area, Sasuke's eyes haven't shifted upon finding the target next to him. In fact, it's very possible that he hasn't blinked yet.

"... my name is Uchiha Sasuke." There it is, though, with the barest hint of resignation.

hotdogs

[howlongiwonder]

[2B gives the salesman a good, long look. Then, the stall. Then the salesman again. From all the weird things she encountered during her short stay here, this must take the cake.

But then, it makes sense that humans can function without their skin and outer layer. As long as your inner organs are undamaged, right?]

I don't... really eat.

[bone_idle]

[ Organs? He's got none of those, either, not that anyone can tell, what with the cushioning layers of shirt, hoodie, etc.... Somehow, despite being nothing but magical bones, Sans manages to give the illusion of girth.

Speaking of appearances, 2B is getting one long once-over as he eyes her off with dim lights in hollow sockets. Ultimately, his shoulders hitch up in a brief huff of half-formed laughter, grinning drowsily as he plucks a 'dog off the 'counter' and extends it to her in bony phalanges. ]

Don't, can't, or won't, pal?

[ He just so happens to know a robot who CAN eat, and is choosy about it purely because he needs to 'watch his figure'. Besides, they all get a little leeway when it's magically-infused food, seeing as it just converts to pure energy upon consumption. ]

Everybody needs a pick-me-up. You tellin' me you don't? [ Somehow, one eye socket shuts in a wink. ]

Tell ya what, have a bite. If it does nothin' for ya, the 'dog's on me. Howzabout it?

[howlongiwonder]

There's no need for it.

[This is getting weirder by the minute. Best not to dwell on the skeletal vendor's unusual appearance. But despite her verbal rejection, 2B can't help but feel very curious now.]

It's a hot dog. That means it's made of meat, correct?

[How bad can it be? Surely no one would sell toxic or harmful substances in the middle of the city. A gloved hand reaches out to pick the 'dog up.]

[bone_idle]

People love hot animals. They're the guys keepin' me in business.

[ Says the guy who just opened up his informal -- and unlicensed -- business a few hours ago.

Still, she's reaching for it, so he plants the hot dog roll in her waiting, gloved hand, in which is nestled a cattail, marinated in hot dog water and cooked to steaming, then infused with magic.

It's not that it's BAD, per se. It's just not a "real" hot dog. Which is probably why Sans insists on calling it a 'dog. That's right. Apostrophe-dog. It also means that taking a bite will result in it evaporating into an infusion of raw, gentle energy. But before that, he pulls up a squeeze bottle of ketchup. ]

Hold up, you sure you want that plain?

dubious festival food

[leadintheyoung]

It's almost comedic the speed at which Líadan slows, finally grinding to a halt a good few feet from the unusual vendor with still widening eyes. She had been at a generous run, cloak billowing behind her, and now, she's most definitely stationary and near oblivious to complaints issued about her standing very much in the way of those trying to get past.

Why?

Because there's a skeleton, a talking skeleton. Had his eyes been sunken holes, she might have assumed it was a distasteful prank played by some child whose clan had failed to teach them to properly venerate the dead, but they're not. There's life in them and she stands deathly still for it, uncertain as to what she's actually seeing and how to respond to it. Is it a disturbed spirit th --

It's talking. It's speaking words. It's alive, but it's... a skeleton? It's dead and her brows are slowly knitting as he makes that statement about her maybe being hungry and -- he wants to sell her a dog. She's assuming he means a hound and that takes the figurative cake. It takes the figurative cake and starts juggling with it.

Líadan has seen a lot of things in her life, but this? Oh, this ranks among the most bizarre and difficult to process. She's still trying to process it for that still present inkling of fear, but she doesn't budge for a mixture of her damnable curiosity and -- oh, no. He seems creepier and creepier the more her mind tries to rationalize him as a disgruntled spirit that reclaimed his bones and rose from the grave and -- and she isn't shaking! She absolutely is not shaking. She also isn't budging, though, and may have forgotten to breathe.

[finethanks]

"A dog?"

She's blocking the way, certainly, but Eichi only adds to it when he pops up from behind her, looking curiously at this... meat stick that Sans is just holding out to them. Naturally, there's a glance up to his face as well, and some hesitation, but he recalls that the last time he met a skeleton, or something like it, he had ended up only sweet and caring. Emil was his name, right?

This one looks a little different, but Eichi has seen a lot worse, and there's something to be said for not judging a book by its cover. Besides that, he has to keep his appearance. He notices that Líadan is trembling beside him, and that's a large reason as to why he steps forward and speaks for her, instead.

"Oh, do you mean a "hot dog," perhaps? I've heard of these before. Suspicious meat bunched together in an easy-to-cook package that commoners often purchase. I've always been curious about the taste." He's still not taking it, though, glancing from Sans back to Líadan. "Have you heard of them before?"

[bone_idle]

"A 'dog," the skeleton corrects, those dim eye lights sizing up the human in the cloak first for a lengthy pause before he goes on to explain to the other, "Apostrophe-dog. And speakin' of dogs--"

That sure is a talking, walking--well, sitting skeleton. Unlike Emil, this one looks squat and diminutive, the hollows of his eye sockets somehow seeming tired despite the friendly, comfortably lethargic grin he aims now at Eichi.

Huh. Not that he knows much about the age demographics of humans, but he thinks maybe they're young-ish. Not as young as Frisk, on account of being... taller.

Pale phalanges spread over his 'table' of wares, little more than a plank or two balanced between two folding chairs, on which an admittedly fairly tidy row of hot dog rolls sit with steaming 'dogs inside them. Near at hand are squeeze bottles of ketchup, mustard, and relish.

Only the red bottle seems to have seen much use. The other two are practically full.

"Your dogs are probably barkin'. C'mon, buddy, why don't you and your pal take a break? Common means cheap. Only 2 units."

[leadintheyoung]

Eichi's voice is a familiar one and it sees Líadan snap her head to one side to be sure it's him even as she strains her ears against the din of the crowd and the world around them to latch onto him, his song and it's -- well, it's a sudden rush of air not unlike that left in the wake of a great bird, white feathers scattering to the winds with the advent of something, someone great in the midst of a parade, a celebration. It's a swell after a dip and it lifts her up and grounds her with its confidence to the point that the fear she only just felt seems that much lesser and she moves to stand even beside Eichi in the face of... well, he's still a living skeleton, but she's not alone in facing him and he is persistent in his sales.

That doesn't scream disgruntled, displaced spirit possessing his former body and that's realization enough to cause her to pause, to listen to h -- him. Oh, she is blinking rapidly at the skeleton, Eichi's music still in her ears for shared focus, and to say his is different would be a gross understatement. It's breathes a light-hearted casualness with a dip about a steady beat and a uniquely flavored joviality clothed in seeming simplicity. It takes that fear of hers, puts it to a figurative bow, and fires it into the horizon with about as much strength as it cares to. What's more? It leaves her left foot tapping to it.

It's here that she comes more firmly into the conversation. Her facial expression has alternated between focused, awestruck, blank, confused, and surprised in the span of the time it's taken them to arrive at this point and it's breaking into something that speaks to some great and terrible amusement now. To think she was scared of this guy! She's pretty sure he's a guy, a person, and not the reality behind some terrible tale old warriors tell of bygone days.

"Two it is," she says, and evenly without her earlier trembling as she looks gratefully at Eichi, then to the skeleton man as she reaches for her satchel. "I can't say I've heard of them before. Are they good?"

Rave on, little monster guy

[leatherdaddy]

[ Have some loud, boisterous laughter the second you send those guys running, Sans. The source? A man naked to the waist, wearing thick leather and dusted with bright streaks of color and the design of a large bird of prey inked on his skin. Gladio was watching those guys with some consideration of doing the same, just to give the boys something to talk about when he sees them next time.

...That is, if he sees them. Orientation made it clear that when he returns, he'll be deposited right where he left off. But anyway. He's glad he didn't, because the moment those hollow, dead eyes light up and bony digits extend into a peace sign, he knows he would have had a good fright himself. A+ trolling, whoever you are.

Blame the dust for the fact he's enjoying this rather than drawing a blade to smash the skeleton into bone mold. ]

Hahahah! [ So tickled pink is the mountain of a man that he's slapping his thigh, tears rolling down the furrow of a scar down the left side of his face. ] That was great! The look on their faces...!

[bone_idle]

[ Woah. He's--uh.

Huge, for a human?

Don't get him wrong, Sans hardly has a lot of first-hand experience with them until very, very recently (besides that very... determined little squirt called Frisk). But even as far as the humans he's had to rub elbows with go, ever since his orientation...?

This diminutive skeleton monster is pretty damn sure this guy could arm-wrestle Undyne and hardly break a sweat.

Yikes.

Still, there's something disarming about how freely the guy laughs at a lousy prank. A guy with such low humor can't be all that bad. Maybe.

Heh, who the hell is he kidding?

Call it the celebratory atmosphere, but Sans shuffles his way over, hands buried into the pockets of his hoodie, aiming eye lights up at the guy through hooded sockets. He can make this work for him, bar flies are one of his specialties, and this guy seems like he might be at home at a rough dive. And this human isn't reacting with suspicion or terror, so. There's that. ]

That's worth at least a drink, wouldn't ya say, pal?

'a guy with such low humor can't be all that bad' WOW THAT SHADE

[leatherdaddy]

You speak, too?

[ What a bizarre experience it must be for a monster who isn't used to so many humans in one place, particularly with how much - ah - humanity there was to see in this spot. Too much, some might argue, what with all the skin and sin. Even without the drug, Gladio would have appreciated the kind of wild freedom of this party, but... if their roles were reversed, he probably would have been more weirded out to see a bunch of monsters doing the same. Repulsed even.

Anyway, Gladio wipes away the tears of laughter from his face and plants his hands on his hips. It's not that hard to tower over a skeleton as small as Sans is, but given his advantage in height? He practically bathes him in shadow. Those glowing points of light in his eye sockets remind him of daemons, but... less evil. And he takes it as a sign of life. ]

For entertainment like that? Why not? [ His grin is all teeth and savage joviality. ]

Hey, puny skeleton guy. Think you can reach the bar by yourself?

[bone_idle]

[ You speak, too?

Sans's eye lights linger a beat or two on the human's eyes, with something a little bit chilly in his grin. He ain't some kinda mindless creature, pal. Typical. Are all humans like this, lookin' down on what's different from them? With the new awareness of alternative universes being a thing, and all, he'd have thought that would've expanded a few minds.

But, eh.

Taking offense just feels like a hassle so with another shrug, he shuts one eye socket (HOW...) in a wink at the huge guy. ]

It's Sans, by the way, and this puny skeleton can manage.

[ Sans stops speaking for a moment, on account of having to sidestep a group of celebrants, covered in dusty blotches of color, jostling each other and speaking loudly in that way that tells Sans they're intoxicated. Not that he's judging. Ok, yeah, he's judging, because it sorta stinks being the only sober guy in the room, and after the adventure he's had? He'd give almost anything to sit in his usual stool at Grillby's and have a drink or two.

Everything's changed. ]

I got one question, pal: what's up with the colors?

floor 10

[leaderboards]

This isn't Carolina's first time in a barracks-like situation and while it's been a while, she's still pretty sure she can spot when someone thinks they're funny. Since that seems to be the case here, she doesn't need to sleep, just to figure out who's responsible. Which means waiting, wandering in and out a few times late at night, until she's eliminated most of the floor as suspects, trying to be casual in her conversations but honestly, casual is still awkward for her. Periodically wandering the floor in silence suits her better.

Eventually she's going to find Sans though, coming out behind him on the balcony, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest, covering the loose t-shirt she should be sleeping in. If she was going to sleep at some point, that is.

"Hey, you haven't noticed anything odd happening with the bedding today, have you?"

[bone_idle]

The figure standing out here has thrown his arms over the railing, where perhaps they dangle over the edge, or they might be criss-crossed and pillowing his chin, hard to tell from this angle, with his hood up and his back to her. That railing casts a deep shadow over his legs, making the bare bone that pokes out from under dark track shorts look like just pale, particularly skinny limbs.

In any case, it seems that his attention is almost wholly engrossed in the night sky above, what of it he can see with vegetation climbing up the residential building and all. It even takes him a moment to notice her presence -- what can he say? Seeing stars, the real ones, not just glimmering crystals clustered on a subterranean ceiling, is an arresting sight.

At just five feet tall, he might even be mistaken for someone much younger, but the moment he responds with a low, droning rumble and a Brooklyn accent, it's easier to pick his age as at least a few decades older.

"Heh heh heh, nah, not a thing. And I'd know, I took a nap earlier."

That's when he turns, angling his skeletal grin at her as a bony phalanx prods at the side of his bleached-white skull, his sockets hollow and dark.

"Slept like the dead."

Man, just look at you, hamming this crap up. She probably isn't even going to get spooked, Sans is just poking fun at the usual reaction.

floor 10

[earthy]

[It's almost 3AM when nightmares drive Terra out of bed 10. (He leaves his bed a crumpled mess but reminds himself to pay more attention to what he's doing when he makes it later. This last time, he apparently got the sheet folded in half. How did he even manage to do that? Talk about a stupid mistake.)

After a quick change back into his compression shirt and hakama, he heads out onto the deck. He'd meant to summon his Glider and take off, maybe go follow the fence for a while, see if there are any monsters around, but the presence of the short, hooded figure on the balcony forces a change of plans.

It would be rude to just fly off, with a roommate standing there.]

Good morning.

[Resisting the temptation to sink into one of the chairs, he finds a spot along the railing to lean on. His eyes go straight to the sky, to the swath of unfamiliar stars twinkling there.]

I'm Terra.

[About time he started introducing himself to roommates, since up until now it's just been the occasional polite nod and 'hello' as he's come and gone from the floor.

He gives no indication that he's noticed this particular roommate is all bones (and hoodie and track shorts and fuzzy slippers), though.]

I ended up busy all weekend, sorry!

[bone_idle]

[ The hooded figure's head tips in response to his arrival, begins to turn again when he goes so far as to introduce himself. There's a hitch of his shoulders, like with silent laughter. ]

Morning? Already? ...Geez.

[ Sleeplessness somehow manages to carve dark lines of exhaustion beneath even Sans's hollow eye sockets, and the half-light makes the skeleton's grin more macabre than tired-but-good-humored.

Provided the sight doesn't cause Terra to take a more extreme reaction than a perhaps expected recoil, the skeletal stranger adds: ]

This interdimensional jet lag is a real killer, huh?

no worries got busy myself!

[earthy]

[His roommate has a skull for a head.

No skin, no flesh, no hair, just a (definitely grinning) skull and two lights floating in empty eye sockets. Yep, his hands there sure are bones, too.

And Terra's reaction is to blink once, watch him evenly as he speaks, and then look back to the slices of city and river and sky he can see through all the plant life decorating the building. He tries to school his expression blank but can't quite manage it, a small smile finding its way to his lips.

Long before he got to travel the worlds himself, when he was still just a kid, he'd sat rapt before his Master for hours at a time, listening to stories about some of the different worlds out there. It turned out there were millions of worlds beyond the one he'd been born in and the one he'd been brought to by the Master.

In some worlds, the people were people, in others the people were animals or machines or fairies, and in still others, they were ghosts and goblins, witches and vampires, demons and wolfmen. In some worlds, the people were skeletons.

Sure, his teammate hadn't thought much of the idea of a world where all its denizens were 'spooky', but he'd insisted it was neat. She could just leave any future missions to that world to him, if it would scare her or whatever. (The glare she'd shot him for saying that...)

His smile fades at the memory. He'd never gotten to visit that world.

But now actual skeleton roommate.]

Heh. Yeah.

[It's killing some people more than others, apparently. Terra looks to Sans again.]

I have a Sleep spell, if you need help getting some rest.

[Because it sounds like actual skeleton roommate has been up all night and, frankly, he looks tired. His head is a skull but that skull looks tired. Well, who says skeleton people don't need sleep?]

[bone_idle]

[ He's... really gotta give this guy some credit.

There's no flinching, no freaking out, no exclamations. If anything...? Sans would dare to say the guy seems a little, um. Happy..?

Maybe that ain't the right word, exactly. Privately thrilled by a discovery. Which would pin this guy firmly in the adventurous and brave category of person. An earnestness tempered by... age?

Hell if he knows. Humans are still strange to him. ]

Thanks, but no thanks.

[ He winks. ]

I never take someone's magic without dinner first.

[ He's kidding. He turns, leaning his back against the rail, and extends his hand. ]

The name's Sans. Don't worry, I don't bite.