a good run 💔

The sounds of approach aren’t entirely surprising, he is expected after all. Though Blu’s on sharply clawed feet raise little more than a subdued ‘tak tak’ sound as he shuffles along. He may not look much like a Sans, but he certainly seems to gently bend reality about as badly as his counterparts.

Hard to stop his grin from widening a little at the response, ah yes, he must make quite a sight. Frisk on the other hand is easy enough to recognize, not ‘his’ Frisk, nowhere near so somber and crestfallen, best he can tell, but the similarity is there to be sure. The blaster continues slowly shuffling forward - somehow moving faster than his gait would seem to imply - finally coming to a halt once he’s close enough to throw out a lazy right hand in greeting. Some things, it seems, are always the same..

“heya kid. guess i made it, not too hard. did uh. tell ya i get around right? ask me ‘bout the time i visited rapture sometime. sure was somethin’..”  Another few turns of his skull, overemphasized, to a rather comical degree, for effect. “though this right here? sort of a new one on me. never sea-n anythin’ like it. heh heh.. takin’ it we still got a little ways to go from here, eh?”

Just a normal Frisk. Heart-shaped locket around their neck, stick somehow jammed through a belt loop. (They’ve got the dagger in their inventory, but they have a strong fondness for the slip of wood.)

Somber is the furthest thing from their demeanor. Honestly, they hadn’t expected to be so excited to see a Sans again. They hadn’t expected him to drop a whole new scenario in their lap either, even if it’s just a change of body shape.

...But it’s still definitely him. They bark a one-note laugh, hard to tell if it’s real (even for Frisk themselves). “D’you travel just from game to game? ‘Cause then you get to miss...leagues...of scenery.” 

...Did they do that joke right?