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Sans:

He has to process what had just happened.  He feels that he has seen this before, but not at a time when he was expecting to watch it unfold again.  They reset before he killed them, didn’t they?  And they will probably do it again, too.

They can’t possibly fight him at this level, so they’ll run.  Strategize while they are the only one to possess a full knowledge of former events.

He’ll just have to kill them before they have the chance.

“I probably hesitated, didn’t I?” he chuckles wryly.  “Don’t expect that to happen again.”

 Relentless. That’s the first word that comes to mind in terms of Sans’ attitude. He won’t stop, won’t listen or seem to notice that they are not intending to fight.

 They won’t deny deserving some sort of punishment. Not after last timeline, not after all of their effort to befriend those here were besmirched by that voice in the back of their head telling them to do otherwise. After all, they wouldn’t remember it.

 That voice was right for the most part. It’s horrible, knowing they only followed through those orders (and nearly lost themselves due to it) because they thought the consequences wouldn’t apply to them.

 Foolish. So, so foolish.

 “ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-- ”

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cross off the things you've done [ ic ]

Graduated high school.  Kissed someone. Collected something really silly. Smoked a cigarette. Got so drunk you passed out. Rode every ride at an amusement park. Gone to a rock concert. Helped someone. Gone fishing. Watched four movies in one night. Gone long periods of time without sleep. Lied to someone. Snorted cocaine. Failed a class. Smoked weed. Dealt drugs.

Been in a car accident. Been in a tornado. Been to a funeral. Burned yourself. Ran a marathon.

Cried yourself to sleep. Spent over $200 in one day. 

Flown on a plane. Cheated on someone. Been cheated on. Written a 10 page letter.

Gone skiing. Been sailing.

Had a best friend. Lost someone you loved. Shoplifted something. Been to jail. Dangerously close to being in jail.  Skipped school.  Had detention.  Got in trouble for something you didn’t do. Stolen books from the library. Gone to a different country. Dropped out of school. Watched the “Harry Potter” movies. Had an online diary. Had a yard sale. Had a lemonade stand. Actually made money at the lemonade stand. Been in a school play. Been fired from a job. Swam with dolphins. Taken a lie detector test. Gone to Sea World. Voted for someone on a reality TV show. Written poetry. Read more than 20 books a year. Gone to Europe.  Loved someone you shouldn’t have.

Used a coloring book over age 12. Had surgery. Had stitches. Taken a taxi. Seen the Washington Monument. Overdosed. Had a drug or alcohol problem. Been in a fist fight.  Suffered any form of abuse. Gone surfing in California. Had a hamster/guinea pig. Pet a wild animal. Used a credit card. Did “spirit day” at school. Dyed your hair. Got a tattoo. Got straight A’s. Been on the Honor Roll. Know someone with HIV or AIDS. Made-out with someone. Played on a sports team. Snuck out of the house. Swore at a teacher.  Gone laser tagging. Dated someone.  Been on the TV. French braided. Skinny-dipped. Driven a car. Performed in front of an audience. Been in love. Been on a train. Seen a ghost.  Gone bungee-jumping. Been to Mexico. Crashed a car. Sky dived. Been kissed in the rain. Made an 11:11 wish. Drank alcohol. Forwarded a chain letter.

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     STARTER CALL!

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     STARTER CALL!

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???:

     A lack of buildings there may be, but there are still igloos that dot the harsh wintery landscape.  Igloos, and a single bed among a grove of pine trees.  Madotsuki catches the sound of footsteps in snow long before she sees the other child in the distance, and jerks upright among the blankets.  

     Dead grey eyes with muddled sclera scan the perimeter until they come to a rest upon a small figure approaching, and Madotsuki feels her heart skip a beat.  Could that be the sleeping child from one of the igloos?  The girl squeezes her eyes shut again and leans forward a little, taking care not to make any sudden movements.  She could be wrong and that could be a Toriningen, and those things don’t like it when she runs.

  Little ice houses is what they’ve always called igloos. The true name doesn’t pass their mind, simply peering at them and continuing on their way. Intruding possibly upon a family is not a goal of theirs and they know that attempting to talk and ask for directions will result in their own silence.

  They shiver, hands rubbing together in a poor attempt to keep warm. Eyes take in the landscape again, feet slowing to a pause as they take note of a dark spot in the distance. Fear swells in their chest, though the prospect of possibly talking to another person overcomes it and fills them with determination. Inhaling deeply, Frisk picks up their feet and races towards the figure, hoping they are not hostile.

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Sans...:

Maybe it’s because they’re still weak…but…isn’t this too easy?  They aren’t even trying to fight back, from the looks of it.  

Troubling, troubling.  

He begins to pace, wondering if they’ll actually come back.  He almost wants them to.  He knows it’d be better if they didn’t.  Every so often he’ll check over his shoulder to make sure Papyrus isn’t there.  But that’s silly.

They’re stuck in a loop now, after all.

He stops.  The doors open.  Frisk emerges.

Sans sighs heavily.

“Dammit, Kid,” he chuckles weakly, clenching his jaw.  “I knew you were persistent, but…c’mon.  I can’t stay here killing you forever.  I wanna go home and get a good night’s rest for once, y’know?”

A gigantic bone appears overhead, poised to smash Frisk like a bug.

  It’s a hesitant restart, fingers hovering over the glowing button and fear constricting their heart to the point of questioning if it’s worth another try.

  It isn’t like they’re completely innocent. Chara cannot take all the blame; it’s them that allowed the other to take control after all.

  That doesn’t mean they’re unwilling to set it right though.

  Heavy doors come open once more, stick dangling in their hands and band-aid barely hanging onto their face. Sans is there once again, as expected, and everything stops.

  They give a smile, though the tears brimming at the edges and the shakiness in their apparent joy signal something else.

  “ I don’t want to hurt anyone, Sans. ”

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Quiet whispers, gentle visions

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Chara:

                    DELIGHT is still brimming up through Chara— through their gifted                     half of the soul, through flesh and nerve endings that cradle them                     in a sensation of LIFE that they haven’t felt in so, so long —and so                     they are momentarily oblivious to Frisk’s discomfort. It is actually                     quite logical that one would have mixed feelings about suddenly                     sharing their BODY, but heck if Chara is considering that right now.

                    The emotion is potent enough to quirk Frisk’s lips in a residual grin                     without Chara even intending to, before they stop to consider what                     the other had said. A hum is the next sound to REVERBERATE                     through the shared space of their minds.

                  ❝ I was not sure what would happen, either.                      Though. The idea that I would be able to exist physically on my own                      does not make much logical sense, now that I think. MY real body                      is…  well, six feet under. I would need a new one entirely. ❞

                    The thrill of being physical again somewhat blew any concerns for                      what sharing a body would MEAN clear out of the water. As it was,                      they are still more interested in what they might be able to do now.

                  ❝ Hmm. I wonder if I could control the WHOLE body. ❞

  It’s a childish excitement and they understand that (well,   almost. They’ve never been dead long enough to fully   get the feeling), but... it’s so strange. Does Chara even   care for the state of being they’re both in right now?

  They suppose not when they feel the edge of their lip   come up in an uncomfortable expression. Not a grin of   their own creation, but another’s. A hand draws up to   their mouth as if to conceal it from an invisible audience’s   view.

  There’s a moment where they frown at Chara’s casual talk   in regards to their actual body’s state (death feels temporary   to them, fingers twitching once as if the RESET button is   before them and ready to be pressed).

  No more though. They won’t go back and trade this happy   ending for anything ever again. Their own thoughts flee at   the elder’s consideration of body-snatching, heart leaping   into their throat at the thought.

  “ Don’t-- ”

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???:

They slowly lower their arms and peer down at the child curiously.  Why do they not run?  In fact…what are they doing?  Mimicking her, perhaps?

Or–oh.  Literally not looking at her like she asked?

“Tiny human…why do you stay?”

  They continue to avoid meeting the creature’s gaze despite the piercing feeling of her eyes being on them. It’s uncomfortable, but they won’t purposely make the other feel the same.

   Even when the question is asked, they cannot bring themself to speak, acting as a statue until words finally form and are able to be spoken.

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* You’ve been meaning to ask @guardsruins something for a while now.

  The only noise they make is when they are right next to her, arms on the counter as they lean forward to get a better look at Toriel.

   “ Can I help you make a pie soon? ”

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Shopkeeper Lady:

     Oh no. It was the ‘I can’t pay for this even though I’m trying to’ thing that kids did all the time. Why did children have such a strong hold over her why-

“ … Ah, look, kid. I really wanna give you a discount. Believe me, I do. But I can’t. This is a business, after all. Girl’s gotta make her money somehow, right? “

      With a small sigh, she leaned slightly on the counter with a smile. “ However, what I can offer is a proposition for you. You gimme a hand back in the kitchen, I’ll give you the Cinnamon Bunny for your troubles. You’ll be working off whatever you owe me, and depending on how well you do, you might even get a lil’ discount off your next purchase. Sound good to you? “

  Darn, it didn’t seem like she was willing to give in. They rocked back on their heels just a bit, hands gripped onto the counter’s edge to ensure they would not take a tumble backwards.

   However, it didn’t go as planned (but it all worked out it seems). They blinked, listening to her offer, eyes growing wide while a toothy grin formed on their face. 

   They gave a nod, Frisk throwing their hands up out of joy. They came crashing down a moment later, having lost their balance while on their heels. They did a little roll, scrambling back to their feet and returning to the counter with way too much vigor for a child about to go to work. 

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doodle

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Send my muse an item in my askbox! I will keep it in a ‘inventory’ where my muse can use it in future threads!

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* You wonder if @skelesmoke is simply trying out his brother’s style.

  Confusion is apparent in their expression, eyes roaming over the outfit the other is wearing. Sure, he can’t be blamed for trying out a new type of style (it did look comfy), yet something felt... off.

   “ I like your sweatshirt, ” they say simply, unsure of another way to start a conversation.

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   STARTER CALL!

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???:

Shit, the kid still isn’t leaving. Usually such a straight-the-point answer would fend any other brat off, but this one seems determined to have their way. He’s not going to give in that easily.

“Why do you want to use my bat so badly?” he asks, frowning. “I’m sure other kids would give you a strange look if they saw you carrying a blood-stained piece of wood around. … Y’know, unless that’s the look you’re going for.”

   Frisk shuffles their feet when the blood on the bat is brought up. Lying is never the right thing to do, but what else can they do? If the man ever gives in, they can simply say it’s paint.

   Shaking their head, they mumble before inhaling and speaking up again. “ I need to get something out of a tree, but I can’t... reach it... ”

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???:

@stickwielder liked for a starter

She curls into herself, trying to make herself as small and diminished as possible.  But it’s too late; she sees how the child looks at her.  

Oh, they are so little.

“Please…don’t look at me.”

Arms lift to shield her head, conceal her face.  Antlers, however, get in the way.

  If they want to be honest with themselves, they are scared. Or, maybe, the better word for this feeling would be intimidated. The size of the other was enormous compared to them and, as it works, it serves to strike a sense of fear through their body.

   When she speaks, they listen and shuffle.

   Instead of taking their leave, Frisk sits on the ground in front of her and simply covers their face. Maybe they could talk to her...?