Wolf Bread

[mylastchance]

Who: Lauren and Sans
What: Shirt givings.
Where: The carnival grounds.
When: Recently
Warnings: None!

He finally has the shirt, and so he hopes he can finally get his staff back. However, despite what Sans said in his letter, Lauren's not too optimistic. He's frustrated, by a number of things all that make him likely to avoid being hopeful. Most of all, he just can't bring himself to trust Sans, even if Carly did say he wasn't undead. He wasn't even sure if that was a good enough reason to be distrustful anymore, but he was. He only hoped he could manage to have a decent conversation with someone for once.

"Sans?" he asks, coming forward, shirt in hand.

Comments

[osteothropy]

Honestly, Sans has almost already forgotten about this, and so to have Lauren approach him with a shirt and so little fuss is actually kind of astounding. He blinks in a moment of incomprehension, and then his grin widens, a laugh shaking him.

"So you actually did it, huh?" he asks, looking up at the guy, his tail moving in amusement. For all he knows there is still a trick to this, but he'll see.

[mylastchance]

How did he even talk without moving his mouth? What a creep.

"Yeah. I did." he hands the shirt over, not really sure why anyone would even want a shirt like this, but still, a deal is a deal.

"And now my staff."

[osteothropy]

Sans has to check it over, first, to ensure it's what he asked for - up to and including scratching at the printing a little bit to see how it sticks. Ultimately it's satisfying, though, and he tucks it over his arms and shrugs.

"Sure thing, pal," he says, and cuts a circle into space-time with his claw, opening a shining ring of void in it that opens up to his personal pocket dimension. He reaches into it like a back of holding, fishing around for the staff.

"You're lucky for that brother of yours," he comments as he searches. "He's a good kid."

[mylastchance]

"He's naive." Lauren says, watching Sans essentially reach into nothing with some small amount of curiosity. He knows his brother better than anyone, and he's definitely not going to say he isn't lucky for having him.

"That's why I need my staff." Obviously, what good is a weapon if you aren't using it to protect someone. Or to kill undead, but he's starting to have serious doubts about that second thing.

[osteothropy]

"Uh huh," he says. How seriously is he looking for that staff? It's possible that he's taking his sweet time. "Gotta be honest with ya, though - that behaviour in the cookhouse? Not gunna cut it." He casts a glance back at Lauren, his blue eye somehow extra penetrating.

"Sometimes it takes being a little naive to do the right thing, y'know?"

[mylastchance]

Lauren rolls, his eyes, he doesn't need any lip from this guy, he was just as eager to escalate their fight as he was. He has more than a few opinions on "doing the right thing," as well, thanks to years of dealing with an extraordinarily powerful child idealist who thinks everything can be fixed if you just throw enough magic at it.

"And sometimes being naive gets you killed." He's an adult, he thinks Sans is too, he's positive this is something all adults should be able to understand. "He's the only family I have and I plan on keeping the both of us alive for as long as possible."

If that means someone else gets left behind, he would genuinely feel bad, but as far as he's concerned, Susan comes first. He always has and he always will. And if this skeleton doesn't keep his end of the bargain Lauren will know for sure he's up to no good, or maybe even downright scared. That being said, however.

"I'm sorry I attacked you, and I don't plan on doing it again."

There, now he said it, he can officially stop caring whatever people think, because he apologized and meant it.

[osteothropy]

"Yeah... it does that, too."

He doesn't have any ideas that being naive is the perfect solution to everything, that's for sure. Yet, being too cynical is how people let themselves be cruel in the first place, further extending the cycle. His grin has faded a bit at this point.

"Good, thanks," he says, leaning on the edge of his portal. "...You can never know just how people end up here, kid. Most of these folks don't deserve anymore violence in their lives."

[mylastchance]

Something he's become well aware of at this point.

"I've realized. Do you have my staff?"

[osteothropy]

"Of course I do," he says, not that that seems to inspire him to search any faster. "You make that thing yourself? I noticed its magical properties while it was in my care. Magic is a pretty big thing in my people's culture so, you know, I consider myself an expert."

He already knows that Lauren made it himself because Susan told him so, but that doesn't mean he won't ask the question.

[mylastchance]

My people's culture. Guess that means he really was born a skeleton. As if he didn't feel dumb enough already for picking a fight, it wasn't even for the reasons he first thought. He looks noticeably gloomier at the thought, and also at the realization that he was pretty much stuck here until the skeleton finally gave him what he wanted.

"Yes. I did." He isn't sure what qualifies someone as a magic expert, sounds like the kind of thing some egotistical wizard would say, but he knows magic doesn't seem to work the same way in all their different worlds so he just ignores it.

"Most druids use wooden staves to cast, though the ways you choose the wood vary depending on the person. Some cultures even prefer totems. I've seen some of them at Greengrass, though I'm not sure of the rituals involved in their creation."

[osteothropy]

"Druid, huh?" he asks casually, as he leans over the edge of his portal and sticks his whole upper half inside, making a show out of looking for the thing. "So you're a nature caster? Y'know, despite its various ethical issues, this place is actually pretty great for learning a thing or two extra about spell casting. Magic works different everywhere you go, but that doesn't mean there isn't some stuff you can take along with you."

[mylastchance]

Lauren shrugs, lifting an eyebrow as Sans starts to disappear into nothing.

"I guess? But I'm happy with what I know now. I don't think I really need to learn anything else."

He's happy manipulating the weave the way he knows best. Since his magical abilities are a gift that comes from his understanding and connection with nature, he's worried about losing them if he studies anything else too deeply. Which is completely unrealistic, but still a concern nonetheless. Plus, he's confident enough in his abilities, he knows he can protect his brother from most threats, or at least run from the ones he can't.

"Do you need help with this in some way?"

[osteothropy]

"Nah," Sans pulls himself out of the hole and then winks, snapping his fingers. The staff flies right out of the pocket dimension and into his hand. "I think I got it."

He swings it over so that Lauren can grab one side, but doesn't let go of his end quite yet.

"So, no more causing a ruckus, ok?"