#geminidoomed

whaaaaaaaaaaaaat doing?

Shank was nervous.

The reasons were twofold; one, he'd decided to invite someone over without thinking, and two, he hardly knew the one he'd invited. Ordinarily this wouldn't bother him so, but in this particular case he was planning on discussing his brother. Discussing what had happened was always something. Putting words to that emotion was difficult - was he sad? Regretful? Ashamed? He couldn't tell anymore. Most of it was numbness with the slightest edge of some feeling he no longer had words for. He'd forgotten what it felt like, to be like this.

And so he was pacing about in the empty streets of Snowdin, soft flakes of bitterly cold snow slowly coating his scarf and jacket. He hadn't been back here for some time, aside from occasional scavenging runs and to stare blankly at the burned out husk of his house. Its scorched, bare 'bones' were a stark contrast to the blanket of white around it, and the thin cover of ice and snow that had started forming. Weeks - or perhaps months - had passed since he'd burned it to the ground, after all. Eventually the weather would cover it completely, erasing any sign that it had once been there.

He'd been pacing so much that the imprint of his boots was all over the street, round and round in circles as he fought against what little shred of emotion he'd managed to conjure forth. It was so bad that he hadn't even heard the hushed voice of his brother - first concerned, then stern, then louder and louder until he finally snapped to, pausing in his tracks. All he did, however, was lock eyesockets with the not-quite-spirit and gesture idly with one hand for him to repeat himself.

'relax, bro, they just want to help us.'

It bothered him, how little echoes petered after every word, hollow and eerie. It also bothered him that he hadn't noticed the worry clearly lining his brother's face, he must've been lost in thought longer than he'd realized. But slowly he wrestled a smile forth, and then a little laugh - of course Sans was right, he was most of the time. They had nothing to worry about. And if they did, he was strong enough now that he could defend himself. That gave him some measure of comfort, twisted though it might be.

"I KNOW, BROTHER. I JUST DON'T LIKE IT WHEN PEOPLE JUDGE US. OR WHEN THEY ASK QUESTIONS, YOU KNOW THAT."

That put an end to the discussion, as quickly as it had began - at least he was paying attention now. He sat down in front of the former house and checked his phone, then set it aside in his pocket. The coordinates were sent, now all he had to do was wait. He wasn't sure what to expect - while he'd met some very interesting people, he was still somewhat new to this whole multiverse business, having only recently reached out to others. Like his adoptive brother, and his new friends, and the strange collection of refugees he'd come across. He had a feeling this would be something new, though. Once, that would've made him excited. Now all it did was put a knot into his nonexistent stomach.

For @cyberneticlagomorph a peek into the future with them and @geminidoomed

Trick or Treat!

Cronus doesn't really know much about this guy, but he was gold and a captor. He picked a marshmallow shaped like a bee, which was dressed like a witch. The bee was set on top of a sugar cookie. He grabbed some honey candies and a small beforan alcohol bottle and put them into the goodie bag.