Label: VIRGO ENTERTAINMENT Band: VANDALISM IN PROGRESS Instrument: TROMBONE Fame Lvl: 0 Current MP: 0
Short Description: ► Sans is a trom-BONER lol. jk I'll do this properly soon. (though it would be in the spirit of Sans not to.)
Regains So Far: ► MODERATE SPACE-TIME MANIPULATION: He can teleport himself around the city, and also teleport other people and objects within range of sight.
[That...obviously catches Sans off guard. He pauses for a moment, watching Greg. He doesn't look exasperated or incredulous so much as just surprised.]
...You haven't?
[Where do people like this even get plucked from...]
[No kidding. Sans's expression becomes just a little bit more bewildered, but in a characteristically chummy sort of way.]
...You've never watched a movie where the hero kills a guy for good reasons and wondered if it was right? Or heard a news story about mercy killing and wondered if you would do the same thing in their shoes? Self defense? Revenge for something meaningful? Justice? War?
It doesn't have to be anything personal, pal. Hell, it could be the furthest thing from your mind in terms of actual possibilities. But you've really never even wondered, at all?
[Sans blinks, and then scratches his head. Welp. Alright then. Moving forward.]
Well...given that...
[He exhales heavily. Is he really doing this? Yeah, okay. He'll do it.]
This is the source of your whole problem: I start talking about the morality of killing, and straight off you take it as a discussion of you, personally, thinking about killing other people. When, in fact, it isn't just about you, is it?
Thinking about the concept of murder becomes the same as being willing to murder. Killing once becomes the same as killing constantly, unpredictably, and without discretion. A soldier becomes a murderer. A cop becomes a sociopath.
You're right. I was thinking about me. It scares me, man. People don't always think right when they're scared. Gets hard to see the big picture. They say stupid stuff they don't mean.
[He heaves a sigh. No matter whether he really believed words said in a moment of fear and stress, it can't be unsaid.]
You're the one who brought it up. Said you didn't want me to keep being a sucker. This what you meant?
[Whether or not Sans is soothed by that admission - that he was scared and irrational when straight up calling Sans a murderer, repeatedly - it isn't really clear. His expression doesn't change. He just keeps looking at Greg like he's taking down notes somewhere in his head.]
'People don't always think right when they're scared. Gets hard to see the big picture. They say stupid stuff they don't mean.'
[He parrots the exact phrasing back to Greg, looking ever so slightly weary.]
I don't have the luxury of knowing my own motives, Greg. And while I hadn't exactly pegged you for quite this level of doe-eyed innocence...I didn't think it was the time for you to start making assumptions about the kind of person I am just because it's what you want to believe.
[ He doesn't know what to say to that. The way these memories are working, it's unlikely Sans can give him any more context than he has. Now he thinks of it, even if he knew all the details, would it make him feel better? It sure wouldn't make Sans any happier to tell it.
This much wasn't any easier on him, either.]
You never had to tell me a thing, but you trusted me enough to. [ Look how he repaid it. ]
Could be more wishful thinking, but. I think that goes a way towards saying what kind of person you are.
[Sans looks at him for a moment, and then his grin widens back to something more natural. He guesses he hadn't been wrong when he'd risked Greg being the type of person at least capable of getting it. Even if it had taken a little prodding.]
Heh. Maybe so.
[It seems like he might just let the conversation end on that point - Greg understands what he was getting at initially, and seems like he understands the source of his insecurities. It would be easy enough to back off and keep the rest of his inner life to himself, as usual. But...he's here already, he guesses. He's spent plenty of time sorting his head out between that delirious rant of a few nights ago and now, but there are still some mysteries out there. Mysteries that are perhaps more relevant than ever.]
Can I ask you something? The things you remember...do they ever directly conflict? Is it ever like...you're seeing two different versions of the same story?
[ The new line of questioning catches Greg a little off guard. But is it a new line? Sans doesn't always talk through his connections, after all.
Greg needs to take a few moments to think it over.]
I don't think so. I mean, there's a lot of weird stuff, things that don't make sense, sure. I can't think of it getting contradictory or anything, I though.
[ Aside from with his own life now, but that goes without saying. ]
[As usual, it's not immediately clear whether Sans is going to elaborate or whether he's just going to drop the topic without further explanation. It takes a small period of silence, but eventually he decides to push forward.]
That kid.
[He looks off to the side, obviously considering something deeply.]
I've seen 'em do things besides kill and fight. It was like they were a totally different person.
[And helpful to him in a way a bit too profound for him to be comfortable saying, just now.]
There's enough blank space in between that I guess they coulda gone bad somewhere along the line, but I just don't see it. But when I was talking to them, when things were the worst...it was like I was hoping they'd come around. Because I'd known 'em before.
[Like it somehow mattered what they chose to do after death.]
[ As if this all wasn't complicated enough already.
Greg could try and explain it away with twins or something, but it sure sounds like Sans doesn't think that's the case. And if not a friend who changed over time, then what else was there?
Someone who was a good person, once... who hurt people that trusted them, who seemed like two different people...]
[Oh, god. He hadn't even really considered that, since for whatever reason he had been categorizing the memories as a fairly separate existence from this one. But what if this is something they had encountered while they were...whatever they had been? If that's even in the past. Unbelievable.]
My, uh...grasp on linear time seems to be a bit, shall we say, damaged, based on my own commentary on the situation. [How weird it is to hear yourself saying things you have no recollection of.] Causes, of course, unknown.
It's amazing how knowing for fact that something sketchy is going on doesn't make it any easier to figure out what.
[ It takes even longer to register that Sans is talking about the him in his memories, rather than currently. At least, presumably not the current one. Or maybe also? See, this is why it takes so long to figure anything out. ]
Wish I knew what to tell you. I thought I was seeing the future or something, but now it feels like it already happened... wish these things at least had the decency to come in order.
Blanche may as well be taunting us with it as this point. [ Just saying the name urges Greg to glance around, in case the man's around. Or, not him, but one of his goons. Feels like we're further than ever.
It might be that he doesn't care whether we know at this point - so long as whatever it is keeps us confused.
[The lounge is mostly empty at this point, at least. He starts scribbling down something in the notebook he had with him, to organize his thoughts more than to record anything coherent.]
What does a musician, an amnesiac, and a slave have in common?
[Sans snickers appreciatively, still scribbling. Apparently whatever he's writing makes sense to him.]
Right. First off, we've gotta narrow down some context. Are the things we see the future, the past, or some kind of alternate reality. Are they memories we're meant to have, or is them coming up unnatural?
Since some of this stuff sounds pretty out of this world, my inclination would be to believe it's some kind of past life echo phenomenon. But...then you have to ask why they're happening and why anybody even cares about it in the first place - can't really see how that applies to the music biz', y'know?
But when you focus on the part where we are...apparently not allowed to quit on threat of death - then the purpose behind erasing things and not wanting them to come back is all too clear.
The question is...
[And he looks at Greg meaningfully for this.]
Are you prepared to accept a world in which everything any one of us remembers is absolutely and linearly real?
[ Greg stares, expression entirely blank. His rate of processing is a good thirty seconds behind Sans' rapidfire reasoning. That's not even counting the complicated question topping it off at the end. ]
I, uh. That's kind of...
[ It would be one thing if he were asking about only Greg's memories. Those... they've been strange, surreal, sometimes a bit frightening, but never bad. If those were real...
But Greg doesn't know what other people are remembering, what sort of strange thoughts are getting opened up to them. He hasn't been asking, for a wide range of reasons. ]
I dunno if it's a question of accepting it, so much as figuring out what to do if that's the case.
I feel that accepting it might be the only thing we can do at the moment. It's hard to act on something if you don't have any evidence proving it exists in the first place.
[Admitting to a degree of helplessness doesn't seem to put him off as much as it could. Having anything worth doing or working on is liberating enough on its own, even if it's just one big thought experiment.]
If everything we see took place in the past...our past, as opposed to some other version of ourselves...then it means we were somewhere that we're not anymore.
[That...perhaps nothing about their earlier history is true? That part gets to him suddenly, less because it's disturbing and more because he just suddenly finds himself confused about the premise for no particular reason. A quiet, suppressed part of himself thinks: It's happening again...
He frowns (and odd face on him, to be sure) and looks down at his note pad, and taps his pen against his chin.]
[ By now, Greg's willing to accept anything, so long as it feels solid. Things are already awful, so really it's a matter of how to adapt to whatever scraps of reality may come.
He's largely willing to sit quietly and be a sounding board against Sans talking through things. He can't exactly contribute a whole lot to this sort of reasoning aside from nodding along.
It's when Sans pauses that Greg allows his own discomfort to speak up. ]
It can't be right, though. It doesn't add up, not just the world, but... [ What are the words he needs? Everything's too jumbled for him to even know how to say it. ] Just... us, as people, it doesn't... match up.
[Sans runs a hand over his head, very mildly frustrated with this stopping point. It makes him more than willing to prompt Greg for more information, hoping it will get him going.]
I... I told you, right? The uh. Memories, I guess that's what to call them, but...
[ He rubs a hand over his face. He's been way more into focusing on the cool parts of what he sees, the magic and the warm happy feelings. The person he is feels... underwhelming, in comparison. ]
I'm... I'm old in 'em. Not always, but more often than not. That's... that's how it feels, at least.
[The harder Sans thinks about this, the more weird concepts start leaking into his mind. Stuff about timelines, and souls, and...magic? It doesn't feel as weird as it should, though. It just feels sort of sensible, and useful. Enough that, for the moment, he isn't separating it from present reality.]
Timeline discrepancies wouldn't exactly be unprecedented at this point - but hell if that doesn't open a whole new can of worms. Say that you go on to have this kid in your subjective future...
[Sans draws a straight line on his paper, for Greg to see. He makes a crudely drawn, baby shaped icon at the end of it.]
But then somehow you're taken out of the picture...
[He moves back along the line to somewhere in the middle, and draws another dot - and the draws an arrow indicating it forking off of the path.]
Then what becomes of that timeline? What happens to the kid? He's still born if he's here, obviously, but...
[He draws an arrow from the baby icon too, leading to a question mark.]
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...You haven't?
[Where do people like this even get plucked from...]
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[Well this seems to hit on sort of the crux of the issue, doesn't it. ]
Sans, do I strike you as a guy who thinks about killing people much?
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...You've never watched a movie where the hero kills a guy for good reasons and wondered if it was right? Or heard a news story about mercy killing and wondered if you would do the same thing in their shoes? Self defense? Revenge for something meaningful? Justice? War?
It doesn't have to be anything personal, pal. Hell, it could be the furthest thing from your mind in terms of actual possibilities. But you've really never even wondered, at all?
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[ He rubs at his neck. You're making him feel bad for not thinking about killing people, Sans. ]
Even if there are good reasons, I don't think I ever could, so I never got to thinking past that.
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Well...given that...
[He exhales heavily. Is he really doing this? Yeah, okay. He'll do it.]
This is the source of your whole problem: I start talking about the morality of killing, and straight off you take it as a discussion of you, personally, thinking about killing other people. When, in fact, it isn't just about you, is it?
Thinking about the concept of murder becomes the same as being willing to murder. Killing once becomes the same as killing constantly, unpredictably, and without discretion. A soldier becomes a murderer. A cop becomes a sociopath.
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[He falters, then rubs at his face. ]
You're right. I was thinking about me. It scares me, man. People don't always think right when they're scared. Gets hard to see the big picture. They say stupid stuff they don't mean.
[He heaves a sigh. No matter whether he really believed words said in a moment of fear and stress, it can't be unsaid.]
You're the one who brought it up. Said you didn't want me to keep being a sucker. This what you meant?
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'People don't always think right when they're scared. Gets hard to see the big picture. They say stupid stuff they don't mean.'
[He parrots the exact phrasing back to Greg, looking ever so slightly weary.]
I don't have the luxury of knowing my own motives, Greg. And while I hadn't exactly pegged you for quite this level of doe-eyed innocence...I didn't think it was the time for you to start making assumptions about the kind of person I am just because it's what you want to believe.
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This much wasn't any easier on him, either.]
You never had to tell me a thing, but you trusted me enough to. [ Look how he repaid it. ]
Could be more wishful thinking, but. I think that goes a way towards saying what kind of person you are.
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Heh. Maybe so.
[It seems like he might just let the conversation end on that point - Greg understands what he was getting at initially, and seems like he understands the source of his insecurities. It would be easy enough to back off and keep the rest of his inner life to himself, as usual. But...he's here already, he guesses. He's spent plenty of time sorting his head out between that delirious rant of a few nights ago and now, but there are still some mysteries out there. Mysteries that are perhaps more relevant than ever.]
Can I ask you something? The things you remember...do they ever directly conflict? Is it ever like...you're seeing two different versions of the same story?
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Greg needs to take a few moments to think it over.]
I don't think so. I mean, there's a lot of weird stuff, things that don't make sense, sure. I can't think of it getting contradictory or anything, I though.
[ Aside from with his own life now, but that goes without saying. ]
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[As usual, it's not immediately clear whether Sans is going to elaborate or whether he's just going to drop the topic without further explanation. It takes a small period of silence, but eventually he decides to push forward.]
That kid.
[He looks off to the side, obviously considering something deeply.]
I've seen 'em do things besides kill and fight. It was like they were a totally different person.
[And helpful to him in a way a bit too profound for him to be comfortable saying, just now.]
There's enough blank space in between that I guess they coulda gone bad somewhere along the line, but I just don't see it. But when I was talking to them, when things were the worst...it was like I was hoping they'd come around. Because I'd known 'em before.
[Like it somehow mattered what they chose to do after death.]
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Greg could try and explain it away with twins or something, but it sure sounds like Sans doesn't think that's the case. And if not a friend who changed over time, then what else was there?
Someone who was a good person, once... who hurt people that trusted them, who seemed like two different people...]
Could they be like us...?
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My, uh...grasp on linear time seems to be a bit, shall we say, damaged, based on my own commentary on the situation. [How weird it is to hear yourself saying things you have no recollection of.] Causes, of course, unknown.
It's amazing how knowing for fact that something sketchy is going on doesn't make it any easier to figure out what.
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Wish I knew what to tell you. I thought I was seeing the future or something, but now it feels like it already happened... wish these things at least had the decency to come in order.
Blanche may as well be taunting us with it as this point. [ Just saying the name urges Greg to glance around, in case the man's around. Or, not him, but one of his goons. Feels like we're further than ever.
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[The lounge is mostly empty at this point, at least. He starts scribbling down something in the notebook he had with him, to organize his thoughts more than to record anything coherent.]
What does a musician, an amnesiac, and a slave have in common?
[There should be a punchline, but there isn't.]
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Greg watches Sans jotting down notes, again feeling more out of his depth than ever, and sinks down into the couch. ]
They all make it easy to strike a chord.
[ There, he can provide you with that much, pal. ]
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Right. First off, we've gotta narrow down some context. Are the things we see the future, the past, or some kind of alternate reality. Are they memories we're meant to have, or is them coming up unnatural?
Since some of this stuff sounds pretty out of this world, my inclination would be to believe it's some kind of past life echo phenomenon. But...then you have to ask why they're happening and why anybody even cares about it in the first place - can't really see how that applies to the music biz', y'know?
But when you focus on the part where we are...apparently not allowed to quit on threat of death - then the purpose behind erasing things and not wanting them to come back is all too clear.
The question is...
[And he looks at Greg meaningfully for this.]
Are you prepared to accept a world in which everything any one of us remembers is absolutely and linearly real?
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I, uh. That's kind of...
[ It would be one thing if he were asking about only Greg's memories. Those... they've been strange, surreal, sometimes a bit frightening, but never bad. If those were real...
But Greg doesn't know what other people are remembering, what sort of strange thoughts are getting opened up to them. He hasn't been asking, for a wide range of reasons. ]
I dunno if it's a question of accepting it, so much as figuring out what to do if that's the case.
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[Admitting to a degree of helplessness doesn't seem to put him off as much as it could. Having anything worth doing or working on is liberating enough on its own, even if it's just one big thought experiment.]
If everything we see took place in the past...our past, as opposed to some other version of ourselves...then it means we were somewhere that we're not anymore.
[That...perhaps nothing about their earlier history is true? That part gets to him suddenly, less because it's disturbing and more because he just suddenly finds himself confused about the premise for no particular reason. A quiet, suppressed part of himself thinks: It's happening again...
He frowns (and odd face on him, to be sure) and looks down at his note pad, and taps his pen against his chin.]
That doesn't make sense.
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He's largely willing to sit quietly and be a sounding board against Sans talking through things. He can't exactly contribute a whole lot to this sort of reasoning aside from nodding along.
It's when Sans pauses that Greg allows his own discomfort to speak up. ]
It can't be right, though. It doesn't add up, not just the world, but... [ What are the words he needs? Everything's too jumbled for him to even know how to say it. ] Just... us, as people, it doesn't... match up.
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Us, as people, in what way?
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[ He rubs a hand over his face. He's been way more into focusing on the cool parts of what he sees, the magic and the warm happy feelings. The person he is feels... underwhelming, in comparison. ]
I'm... I'm old in 'em. Not always, but more often than not. That's... that's how it feels, at least.
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[Sans looks a little confused. It seems sort of logical based on other things that Greg has said.]
...Didn't you say you had a kid that was old enough to be here?
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So... it's more likely that there's... I dunno, timeline hopping going around, or something, right?
[ You can't just make a person young. That doesn't happen. Clearly. It couldn't be. Obviously. ]
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Timeline discrepancies wouldn't exactly be unprecedented at this point - but hell if that doesn't open a whole new can of worms. Say that you go on to have this kid in your subjective future...
[Sans draws a straight line on his paper, for Greg to see. He makes a crudely drawn, baby shaped icon at the end of it.]
But then somehow you're taken out of the picture...
[He moves back along the line to somewhere in the middle, and draws another dot - and the draws an arrow indicating it forking off of the path.]
Then what becomes of that timeline? What happens to the kid? He's still born if he's here, obviously, but...
[He draws an arrow from the baby icon too, leading to a question mark.]
Talk about having your cake and eating it too.
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