* they call it bonely diggin'.

     ;; i wanna make it clear that this is not a choice i’m making lightly - that it’s something i’ve thought about for quite some time, and that i’ve weighed the pros and cons over - and pros just seem all around better for me currently. please note that this has NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY ONE INDIVIDUAL OR OUTSIDE REASON. THIS IS NOT A GUILT TRIP ATTEMPT OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT - THIS IS PURELY A “LACK OF MUSE” SITUATION. YOU DO NOT NEED TO PERSONALLY APOLOGIZE OR FEEL LIKE THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU AS MY RP PARTNER.

     that being said, the past while, i just really... really haven’t had the muse for this blog. and i adore sans completely and utterly - i’ve REALLY gotten to know him over the past while as a character and i’m happier for it. but for probably a number of personal factors, it’s just too stressful to come back on here again and again and force myself to write him to try and convince myself i’m havin’ a good time. i really should’ve just let myself do this sooner, but live and learn i suppose.

     threads should probably be considered dropped, though if you owe a reply on our stuff and want to continue it, then you’re more than welcome to reply to it (and i have one or two i’ve already messaged after making this post to see if things can continue on like discord or skype), just know i probably won’t get to it myself until possibly waaaaay in the future. i’m not calling this a permanent hiatus for a reason - it’s entirely possible that i’ll be back in a few days or weeks or even months and be fully ready to do stuff here again! i never say never w/ that sort of thing. 

“I most definitely am, dear. 

                                       Are you here to join us and audition?

                                                                                     Or is your brother going to come and audition?”

[H]is voice was most comparable to something akin to a purr, 

                                         pink glowing eyes looking at the skeleton.

           “Well, I’ll tell you now. 

                                If you’re planning to, I do believe you should pick your head up. 

                         You need to be confident in what you plan to do, darling.” 

[W]ith that, he whipped out a clipboard, 

                     biting at the end of a pen as he looked over an empty form. 

                  “Tell me about what you plan to do, darling.”

     Despite Papyrus’ belief that Mettaton didn’t know his existence at all, Sans wasn’t surprised he’d made the connection; his brother had gone to just about every fan meet and greet, which he assumed had the same dozen or so committed fans that showed up without fail each time. Not to mention the fact that two skeletons were a rarity in the Underground, and forced them both to stick out like a sore thumb. Unfortunately.

     [💀] “ uh... nah. not my bro. “ Sans sighed, running a hand down the side of his skull as he looked up. “ his idea, though, not mine. much rather be sittin’ out at my station right now, i can tell you for sure. “

     Almost seemed rather short-biased that he had to look up such a difference to make eye contact with the monster-bot for the formalities. He should probably have brought, like, a stool. Or... something. As if that might’ve helped the situation. 

     [💀] “ your highness. “ 

     He wasn’t sure why he thought it to be a good idea, to go to the king in person, of all things, about the job opening. It was likely an inquiry he could’ve made with a member of the Royal Guard without having to disturb him in the late afternoon, going straight through the foreign Royal Home and standing awkwardly at the throne room’s entrance, fingers nervously fidgeting with the lint in his pockets. It didn’t matter that the king had always had an open door policy with his subjects, even before the tragic losses the entire Underground had felt alongside him. His presence alone felt... intimidating. The fact that he’d never even met the man face to face until now, too, didn’t help stop his perceived assumptions into setting him into a frenzy of anxiety.

     Gaster had spoken highly of him, revered him in such a way that perhaps it was... unhealthy. But he was an impressionable man at an impressionable age, and now, barely twenty, the tales of a boss monster who was willing to sacrifice himself for the good of monsterkind had embedded itself too far in his core.

      Although Papyrus had been more than encouraging with the idea of Sans getting out of the house ( “YOU HAVEN’T LEFT IN LIKE, A MONTH, AND YOUR GREASY SPOONINGS DON’T COUNT!” ) the moment the ad had made its way out onto all of a dozen television screens across the Underground, Sans was still much the skeptic on going through with it at all. Sure, his joke books had been something of a solace over the last several years, and he’d just about abused each and every one of them twice over, but translating a hobby he did while sitting at a sentry station to slightly irritate passerby into an actual, payed for act seemed more than a bit ridiculous to pull off.

     Or... maybe it was less that the jokes themselves were bad ( because they were, and that’s why they were funny ), and because he... was bad. At that sort of thing. Most likely. He could talk with patrons or have a one-sided conversation with Grillby for hours on end without having to slow his roll once, but an actual audience? Expecting him to do that? 

     Oh well, though. He was there, standing awkwardly at the entrance to the MTT hotel’s restaurant in front of the tacked on paper sign covered in glitter glue and sequins that read “AUDITIONS FOR MTT HOTEL ACTS TODAY” with hands in his pockets, staring more at his shoes than anything. 

     Why he’d avoided timeline-hopping for so long was only... vaguely clear. There were probably a multitude of reasons and excuses he could come up with, and all of them would work, more or less. Before, schoolwork had kept him nearly busy and at all hours, and when he’d taken a semester off from that, there was little to keep him mentally active enough to feel the motivation to even make a hot dog, let alone a hot cat or hopping into another universe. There was the point to be made that doing it a lot only put strain on his cracked SOUL and the Void itself, and that the connections had to be strong for when he brought him back, whenever the finishing touches were wrapped up.

     And to place the cheery on the cheap funfetti cake, there was not the possibility of running into that again, the thought of which was deeply irritating at best and draining at worst. Living with the Truman Show was one thing, but being confronted by it head on? Not today. Not any day, really.

     Yet... the urge was present, still, to leap forward and go somewhere new. Be them better or worse than his own, simply experiencing something changed up from the norm seemed to get him off his feet enough, and the duplicates of friends and self alike that he met were, in most cases, friendly enough to connect with at later dates. 

      The break was warranted. The risk was possibly a moot point, and, should it come up, he could walk straight backwards into his own timeline without much repercussion, so... 

The hedgehog stayed completely still on the spot, eyes wide with fright as he kept his ears on alert for any signs of approaching people. Then he saw the pin light and gasped with a slight choke, sweat starting to appear on his forehead. Taking quick, deep breathes, he had to think of a plan now. How could he escape without the possibility of being caught?

The idea of sneaking past the skeleton was proving to be of no use any more. It was a fruitless concept and at this rate, even moving would be risky. It dawned on him how cornered he was by the dead end behind him, the feeling of dread growing by the second.

The warning didn’t go unnoticed either. He really had nowhere to go, did he? He was trapped, unable to move forwards. Instead, he started to shift backwards, ears pinned back as he started shivering. Even speaking would indicate a sign he was actually there.

But then what else could he do? The fact he was cornered by Sans didn’t help the idea of wanting to escape freely without any punishments. The hedgehog’s eyes started to water at the thought of being punished, not wanting to get into trouble. Then again, he shouldn’t have gotten out in the first place.

Why did he have to go here in the first place? Why was he even here? Didn’t he realise of the dangers of being outside the room?

It took him quick thinking and seconds of slight panic to plan his next move, ultimately the best choice was to literally come clean. Seeing as there was no way forward, what else could he do now?

Swallowing to muster as much courage as he could, the hedgehog drew another deep breath, moving forwards shakily.

“Stop there, I-I know ways t-to defend myself a-and be a dangerous m-monster! D-don’t make me come o-out there to get y-you!” curse it, his voice box hadn’t settled in still! How the heck was he supposed to sound threatening?

Oh, who was he kidding? He was terrified. “Don’t c-come closer, please don’t, p-please!”

     Another moment was spent spinning he light around the hall, catching glances over his shoulder ensure he wasn’t walking into some complicated two-human trap - it could happen, surely - before the voice responded back with just about equal sentiments. The wording, though, was enough to get him to pause in confusion, light lowered as he tried to think over it logically. If the stranger was threatening about being a “dangerous monster”, that probably meant they thought he was a human, right? After all, humans didn’t fear other humans (at least to his knowledge) just as monsters didn’t fear other monsters, and he doubted there’d be a human who’d be so clever as to play the noun game of all things to buy sympathy. 

     And, with another step and a flash of the light to catch the hedgehog’s figure, and the tiny skeleton’s figure visibly released all tension, fumbling off to the side wall to press a button, causing the hallways to flood with clinical lights after a brief amount of flickering had passed. The distant rush of the CORE refilling generators could be heard somewhat, though perhaps they were both used that sound by now.

     [💀] “ geez, pal, y’really - ya had me on the ropes there for a second. “ A short laugh bounced off the labratory’s walls as he rubbed the back of his skull, walking forwards with the shake of his head and the extension of a hand. “ y’had me thinkin’ we got another human that managed t’sneak in here of all places. was just about to call in the guard and everythin’. “ 

     When the hand wasn’t taken, Sans frowned slighly at the edges of his mouth, gesturing with a twitch of a finger for it to be taken.

     ;; wow, lots of new people, sheesh. guess it’s time to... attempt? threads?? cause it seems like i pretty much ran out again. whoops. for those of you who are mutual exclusive, i follow from @quincymuses - where you can also find links to all my rp sideblogs, if you’re lookin’ for more variety. more active on some of those than here.