Part Two: The Dinner

[lestercraft]

Who: Arthur & Helly Lester and anyone who actually goes for the invite
When: Evening of Jan 29th
Where: The Lester Household
Open/Closed: Open! Come one and all from Haven Street.
Applicable Warnings: Discussion of January events, mass conspiracy (it's us, we're the conspirators)


It's even odds, he thinks, whether people thought he was off his rocker in making a post like that, or if people would believe he's actually trying to contact people the only reasonable way he knew how. It was certainly much faster than trying to contact people individually, especially in this weather, and hopefully between himself and Helly that they've met enough people to get a decent turn-out.

The more they can learn about this place, the more they can trust each other, the better. Right now, trust is all they have.

The lower floor of the house is well lit, even if all the windows are curtained and shut, and there's a record playing in the lounge, audible from outside - something jazzy and dated by the standards of the time, but a bit of Hoagy Carmichael and Billie Holiday is settling his nerves, if nothing else - and the kitchen is... sparse, clearly underused but for the stack of mugs by the sink, but with some effort the blind leading the blind he and Helly have at least put together a salad for people. Theoretically they'll be bringing their own food too, make it at least ostensibly a potluck.

Comments

[spaghettimonster]

[Unfortunately for everyone, Papyrus has been continuing his culinary explorations into the local cuisine bringing a decorative gelatin dish. It is decorative, a few layers of color to the gelatin like a sky at sunset! It's only that the bottom layer is spaghetti and hotdogs, arranged like a little town of hotdog houses and spaghetti yards between them.

He's been loitering around it like it's an art museum, and he's the first time artist just waiting for someone to walk by and comment on the piece, rather than like someone who meant for this food to be eaten. Along with taking notes on the party, since it's not in the same style as that uncannily smiling one, and it sounds like he might need to throw one himself soon.

In the meantime, introductions are... probably a good thing, but there's a lot of info Margaret's asking for. A lot of info that others are sharing, that would be... a little difficult for him to match.]

...And I'm Papyrus! From a little snowed-in town you won't have heard of.

[Heh. Except for his brother, anyway. Whose approach to this is probably for the best, except for how it could raise extra questions with its pointed silence, and they're both still working on their poker faces here.]

I was something of a sentry... and then, an elected community leader!

[regulararmybrat]

[Papyrus? Like the paper? Maybe it's a nickname or something? She's definitely met GIs with weirder nicknames. She gives him a smile, nodding her head towards him. This guy seems enthusiastic--which she's very grateful for, given how awkward some of these introductions have been.]

It's nice to meet you, Papyrus. What kind of training did you do as a sentry? [She asks, eyebrows raised. She seems genuinely curious, at least!] And, ah, what do you mean by community leader? Were you a mayor or representative?

[spaghettimonster]

Oh, that I led the community! By public demand, and great example.

[Rather than offer a specific title, he offers his brightest, most winning smile. It's a practiced expression, one that only falters slightly when he continues by admitting:]

After some, uh... disappearances, everyone needed some encouragement. A confident go-getter to look up to! [He rallies, smiling back up to full brightness and then some.] And to look out for them. Not the same kind of looking out as a sentry... Less patrolling, less observing from a station... But at least as much cooking!

this isn't exactly a threadjack this is just here

[ribticklers]

[Oh.

In Papyrus's timeline, he's the king.

Well then.

Sans--is going to go get some more food. So Papyrus can't see whatever his face is doing. (There's a definite twitch of alarm, but all things considered Sans keeps it under pretty good control.)]

this is a delayed threadjack now >:3c

[spaghettimonster]

[A few minutes after the round of introductions completes, Papyrus makes his own way towards the food. Mainly, though, he makes his way to his brother's side, as casual and nonchalant as he can make it.]

...Hey. [Lightly, a little bit ribbing him:] I see you've found the free snacks...

[ribticklers]

[It's been a few minutes, and so Sans has had time to absorb the information about Papyrus's situation, even if they mostly means he's setting it aside for later. His grin is perfectly casual.]

Yup. Pretty sure you're the best cook here, though. [Salad, rubbery scrambled eggs, various drinks and bread and platters from the grocery store... Well, Sans isn't going to actually complain about free food. He's just mostly sticking to the deli platter and the tang.]

[spaghettimonster]

As though it was ever in question! But I appreciate you saying so. [An appreciation tempered by him peering for signs that Sans - or anyone else - has taken any of his dish to eat.

But the food's not the real reason he approached, and he doesn't let the conversation sit with that banter.]

Did I... say too much? You didn't interrupt, but... [He didn't notice Sans leaving, but he definitely noted his brother's absence.]

[ribticklers]

[Sans has indeed taken some of Papyrus's! He waited until after Papyrus was done exhibiting it, though, of course. As for Papyrus's question, Sans's expression doesn't so much as twitch, but he's suddenly much more aware of where everyone else is in the house. As long as they're vague, it should be fine.]

Nah, I think it went fine. [It's not like Papyrus said they weren't humans. He didn't even really say what his actual elected position was; Sans just has a leg up on putting the pieces together. But as far as Papyrus knows, Sans should already know that.] Why, did'ja want me to stick around and help? [Sans's grin takes on a mischievous lean; he would have been the exact opposite of helpful.]

[spaghettimonster]

[There's a particular note of triumph in his expression when he notes the food, because the hot dogs had been a nod to his brother, if a somewhat teasing one. And there's relief with that reassurance, a slight lightening of his tension - but more than that, he gives an amused eye roll right back.]

No, thank you! I am perfectly capable of describing my job and my coolness without your contributions. Especially when you're so determined to joke all of yours away, I shudder to think what you would have made of mine.

[ribticklers]

My jokes are my contributions. [Couldn't be anything else! Well, if he's really pushed, maybe he'll bring up the hot dog stand. Even if he had more than a general idea of what Papyrus expected him to be doing, he wouldn't be bringing that up. And as for what he actually got up to back home--

Nah.]

[spaghettimonster]

They've definitely been your most consistent contributions over the years. [Historically, especially - Papyrus has picked plenty of fights with him about such things. Lately, maybe not so much.

But he doesn't call Sans on that detail, mainly because he doesn't want to dwell on the worries and stress of their split efforts while kinging. Not when there's so many worries and stresses to worry and stress about here and now!] Speaking of years... It's, uh. Pretty wild, the years people mentioned.

[ribticklers]

Yeah. This whole situation's pretty weird. [They might be the ones most aware of just how weird it is, actually. Assuming nobody else is lying about their species, which isn't a guarantee. Sans puts some deli meat on some bread and stuffs it into his mouth. Of course he keeps talking regardless.] You'd think if this place wants us all to blend in, they'd pick people from the right time period.

[spaghettimonster]

You'd... think... [On one level, Papyrus has to agree - blending would surely be easier for people who already knew all the rules of life here, than for people still reading up on it. He doesn't generally mind being challenged, likes to think he thrives on it, but... He didn't choose this, so why did their kidnappers?

But he says it slowly and uncertainly because on another level, he's busy with making a disgusted and annoyed face at his brother.] Do you have to talk while eating? It's gross! And rude. And also, hard to understand you?

[ribticklers]

Sorry, sorry. [But since Sans apologized while still eating, how apologetic he actually is is extremely questionable. Still, he swallows.] Maybe they just get their kicks out of forcing people to behave.

[It's probably something else, but Sans can't discount that option. His timeline has made him too bitter to completely treat it as a joke that this is just happening for no good reason.]

[spaghettimonster]

Or just keeping them from not misbehaving. [It's grumbled, partly from residual annoyance over eating manners, but partly...

Well, he still hasn't decided how much to tell the people here about his kidnapping trip, but he should probably warn them about it. And that takes thinking about it. Restrained, condescended to, and then drugged... Then set loose, alone in a too-large house. Seemingly free again, but wary of repeating the experience. Is that forcing him?]

[regulararmybrat]

[Margaret nods slowly, but it's clear from the expression on her face that she's still a little confused. Regardless, she seems fine with the answer for now.]

Disappearances? [She asks in a slightly alarmed tone.] That's awful. Did--Did you ever manage to find them?

[spaghettimonster]

[His eyes widen, his practiced smile slipping, and he blinks rapidly against any hint of tears gathering at her open concern. It's not something he expected to hear, and he's caught offguard by it.Not that he's been generalizing against all humans after everything, of course he's never doubted that they could care... But it's one thing to declare a policy of equally welcoming them all (with obstacles), and another to hear it expressed like that.]

Uh, well...

[He glances sidelong, towards his brother - well, where his brother was. But Sans has made himself scarce, apparently, so Papyrus will just have to do his best.]

I... I'm afraid not. Not yet. But, maybe they just, disappeared to somewhere else! Somewhere like... here! How would anyone know?

[After all, finding the dust that was all that remained of a monster, after their soul shattered and the magic making up most of their body dissipated... It was one thing if they passed in their sleep, but difficult anywhere else, especially in the snow or the watery paths beyond. Even at the best of times, when the dogs of the Snowdin unit had still been around. But that chaotic day had seen them disappear among so many others, and it was easier to keep going if he and Sans pretended to each other that they were all just 'on vacation'. Maybe it was even true.]