As time has passed since news came about of your plans with Hal, being exposed to all your friends and not having had the chance yet to explain what conspired, you’ve been more than just a little depressed about the situation. You’re feeling a lot of emotions that make you sick and lacking of motivation. It had gotten to a point where you wouldn’t leave to attend a proper service without thinking someone would come and get you at the door. Your paranoia and anxiety has reached a new level you didn’t think it could reach, but it’s there now and there isn’t much you know you can do to stop it.
You’ve gotten an intervention recently about this whole avoiding card you’ve been playing. You’re grateful someone has taken enough interest in you to want to help and god do you want to stop being afraid of everything. But it isn’t a simple task. You try to take to heart all the advice you’ve been given and even go as far as to find a hobby to help with your anxiety. You’ve taken on baking simple things and not just rolling up a blunt and getting high to get rid of the anxiety momentarily. Right now you’ve done exactly that. Making small colorful cakes that make your eyes just as happy as they feel when you see Eridan’s color coordinated posts. You’ve made a small rainbow vanilla cake and you’ve carefully carved a rage symbol detail with a serrated knife and some purple icing.
You’re kind of proud of this. You feel less sour over all and you’re not thinking so heavily about what’s happened between you, Dirk and Hal. You take a picture of what you made and then stare at the image for a bit. You want to share with your friends, but the social anxiety is killing you. You’re not usually this wrapped up about talking about things with them. But for some reason you feel afraid of being rejected for your new hobby or having your new creation being belittled.
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Though whatever it is, you're not sure.
You're fine one moment, and the next... Well. It's not so obvious, not really. Outwardly, all you're doing is spacing out in the kitchen- Smile plastered across your face, eyelights seemingly fixated on one specific thing while you stand there with your snack-attack monstrosity in your hands...
But inwardly, something's-...
"heheh. the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick.
it's ALWAYS funny."
"..."
... Looming. Something pervasive is eating away at you as you lay your eyelights on this kid, but you're not sure what it is. You're pretty sure you're just weirded out; For the past entire minute, you'd been trying to get a rise out of them as they journey'd through the woods- things that've made even grown and seasoned adults start crying, but this...?
All that setup, all that effort... All that whoopee cushion gold! Not even a twitch. What a freakin' weirdo.
"...
that's, uh.
your cue to laugh.
or, uh, to emote at all...?"
"..." Nothing. They keep staring at you. Waiting.
(gee, lady, you really know to pick 'em, huh...?)
The feeling deepens. Something beyond just an occasional, inexplicable dissonance, but... You don't let it slow your roll.
"ok. that's fine." You shrug.
"everyone's got their own sense of humor."
You keep it going, introducing yourself, lazily explaining the situation and warning the kid about your brother's dreams of grandeur in the Royal Guard...
But it isn't until you're well past all of that and having another weird encounter with the kid deadass staring at your brother's approach in front of your station that you think it clicks.
You have the oddest sense of deja vu right now.
Maybe you should buckle up for the long day ahead of you.
[You’ve been stalking Asgore for weeks. It seems his routine hasn’t changed much- Wake up, have tea, water the flowers, sit by the coffins and speak to them softly about yesterday, then wander the Underground for the rest of the day, only to have another cup of tea before bed, with meals here and there. He hasn’t upped his security around the SOULS at all, even though you know he’s vividly aware that two of them are absent.
He obsesses over them, like you would. Every night, he stays in bed for an hour or two, fitfully tossing and turning, trying to sleep... Only to wake up, pace for another ten minutes, then make his way to the Barrier. There’s an entrance to the room he keeps them in hidden in the wall there, you’ve found; it must have some kind of cloaking tech he had your Alphys make, or it would have been much simpler for you or Flowey to find. You’re glad you’ve found it first.
He’ll sometimes spend hours down there, until dawn starts shining in the Hallway, just staring sorrowfully at those SOULS... and he’s always careful to make sure he can hardly tell where the doorway is, himself, when he leaves. But you’re Admin. There’s little you don’t know about.
The last time you were down here, something tipped him off to an intruder and you had to work quickly; you were DT-starved, lacking patience, and the second SOUL you tried to lift shattered gently in your claws no matter how carefully you held it. You ran out of the Barrier carrying the first, in its container, so as not to let it repeat the process and make all of your effort for naught.
This time, you’re more careful. Apparently, he has both a motion sensor in the room, and a laser tripwire installed in the entrance; it’s more than you expected, but less than you had hoped a King would do to protect things so important to him. Getting around those is simple with a liberal application of magic.
You’re in and out without much issue, four SOULS safely tucked into your inventory.
Maybe he thinks whoever is using them is better suited.]
Lunch was a great idea, you think. Any time spent with Mettaton usually is; he's a fun guy, you know? Having someone so consistently happy to see you gives your nerves a much-needed pat on the back.
Even with your shortcut, though... You don't think you've ever been late to a lunch date. Not like this. So when he tries to spend his worry on you, you do your best to shrug it off as just getting a little distracted on the way here and make it up to him by going somewhere fancy today, somewhere more up his alley.
You love him, man. You really do.
Sitting down, greeting the waiter, cracking a few jokes to either annoy or amuse the people at the tables around you... You're the least well-dressed in the building, but hey. The important part is you're here together, right?
He rolls one last "Are you sure you're feeling well...?" off you before you reassure him and get the conversation rolling like you ought.
That's the best parts about these places, right? Super conversation starters.
...
It'd really help me out if you kept pretending to be one.
The words stick in your head like a toothache. It's a genuine hope, but one you know is doomed to fall short. There's nothing you can do to make you believe that anything good's about to happen.
As soon as you're sure the human's not able to see you anymore, you shortcut back to follow them. You promised to keep an eye on them, didn't you? Talk about keeping your mouth shut...
When you finally get around back to them, they're standing in the snow and- to your mild surprise- muttering to themselves. So they've just been refusing to talk to you this whole time, huh? Nice.
It's a lot more fun silently roasting them than it is acknowledging that awful feeling creeping up your back.
Maitri's ugly snorting laughter cuts itself short, his face flaring up with embarrassment.
"SANS..." His visible eye is wide with disbelief, hand over his mouth to cover the massive smile that's been spread over his face since you got here. "YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT. We're in public!"
You try to keep the joke moving as a long-forgotten feeling of dread passes over you, leaning comfortably over the table with a smug expression...
But the feeling keeps getting worse, and you falter.
At first, it's not such a big deal, but you start... You start getting nervous. Maitri seems to notice, but doesn't say anything at first... He simply begins leading the conversation with his own natural charisma, letting you take a break.
But you keep getting distracted.
The feeling of not wanting to know what happens next coats you, and with it is a familiar sense of helplessness.
With all the deliberateness they've been carrying for the past ten minutes, they make a swift visit to the weird interdimensional box to their right.
You cannot understress. They know what they want.
They drop quite a few things in- you don't see it all, but a handful of Monster Candies sends a pang of worry in your mind towards Toriel. You haven't heard from her since this morning, but she...
No. This isn't the time for that.
Thankfully, your train of thought is tugged away and back on the topic of the day by the human pulling something back OUT of the box...
A little glove, fingerless and tough-looking. The only sign you see of them being capable of any emotional response whatsoever comes as briefly as it does alarming; a look of satisfaction as they put it on and drop a plastic toy back in.
Unfortunately, it doesn't seem you're the only one in this neck of the woods who seems to notice the new face.
". . ."
"...? Honey? Are you listening?"
"..." Oh... You're spacing out again.
Your eyelights flick up to Mettaton's affirmatively, but you're having trouble keeping it together for a beat so you don't speak. It'd be too obvious, and he looks so worried...
Oh, jeez.
"Sans, what's wr-"
"hey. i, uh.
i gotta go make a call, alright?
i just... remembered something important."
"Oh... okay. I-If you say so. Do you want me to come wi-"
"it's fine. don't worry about it."
You're already getting up and heading to the bathroom, giving him a dismissive wave as you try to shove the feeling of something very, very dire down.
You need to do something, you have to d-
"i'll be back in a flash. really."
"Hey, you!"
If you had a heart, now'd be the time it'd drop. You're afraid you know what's about to happen, but...
Snowdrake flutters towards the human on sight, ecstatic at the prospect of having a fresh new face to test some new, stupid jokes out on.
You know because that's exactly what he did to you not too long ago.
There's hardly any hesitation.
The human turns towards Snowdrake as empty and unfeeling as they did with you, but unlike your encounter...
THWACK.
A hearty fist is sent his way, nailing him right in the side of the face.
Some quivering bullet patterns are sent out towards the human uselessly, as they seem to know exactly how they work, and stammers out an overwhelmed and terrified pun in response.
"H-Hey, 'ch-ch-ch-chill' out, huh??"
THWACK.
An alarming cawing sound bounces over the snow, almost covering up the shifting sound of dust as Snowdrake falls apart immediately.
No mercy.
They kill him, and while you're still too busy reeling over the implications of what just happened by itself, they don't waste any time in doing something curious...
They turn around.
Up until now, you were under the impression that they were bored, and only intended to move forward with nothing personal to lose.
But as they circle back and look around, and as you hear someone say they think they heard something nearby, your metaphorical stomach twists.
They're hunting monsters down.
Now sounds like a pretty cool time to go catch up with your brother.
...
[Facetime with [💀bro.] 00:42 long.]
It doesn't make any sense. You're not sure what happened.
"Sans, you were gone 15 minutes. I THOUGHT SOMEONE STEPPED ON YOU ON THE WAY BACK."
You're sitting on the floor in the lobby area of the bathroom- you know, like those super fancy places have. Bathrooms don't need lobbies, who's joke was...
... Ah. You're shaking, and you can feel a bead of sweat roll down the side of your skull. Your shaking hands are holding one of Maitri's, while his free one brushes up against the side of your face so you'll look at him.
"... oh. sorry.
that probably made lunch a little awkward, huh? walking out on you like that...
kinda rude."
You decided you're not all that hungry after all. You ditch your veritable masterpiece in the kitchen, wondering where all this came from so clear and so sudden as you decide to go take a stroll.
Not at the park, necessarily. It was the first place you thought of, but anywhere's good.
The surface at large can be... Refreshing, you think. Getting out and appreciating the fresh air, the birds, the sky... You never knew you could appreciate something so much that couldn't quite appreciate you back. Your nerves have gotta unwind at something lame and poetic like that.
It's fine, you tell yourself. This isn't completely abnormal, you're just... You're having another bad day. You're needlessly nervous over nothing again, and in a few minutes you'll be able to breathe easy and move on with it. Today... Here. Now.
Right.
As it goes, you wind up finding yourself chilling in the park, anyway. You can hardly actually feel any difference, but you like to think you'd like how the benches here felt after sitting in the sun all day. Arms stretched out over the back, letting yourself sink down onto the seat, resting your head back to watch the clouds roll lazily across the blue... It's so...
"so, that worked out, huh?"
They don't respond. You don't really expect them to, but it still manages to kind of piss you off.
You can't shake it. This isn't what's supposed to be happening, but at the same time it feels like they know... everything. They know exactly what they're doing and there's not a whole lot that's going to stop them from doing those motions.
You're musing about how they don't seem capable of looking literally anywhere but forward when they do something... really annoying.
They look back at you.
They look at you, and in that emotionless stare you hope that there's at least some kind of anticipation, but it's just the same dull stare as before. Like they're just catching what you'll say because they can.
"are you just gonna stare at me, or...?"
You try to sound unimpressed back, only looking at them with a sideglance.
Not that it matters. Seems to work out well for 'em, because they turn around with clipped disinterest and crunch their way through the snow... Sideglaring them the entire time it takes them to walk past your sentry station, you get fed up with trying to read any kind of humanity into them enough to stop them.
"hey, so...
i'm gonna be straight with you."
They stop. It's the only indication you get that they heard you at all.
"my brother'd really like to see a human...
so, y'know, it'd really help me out...
if you kept pretending to be one."
Your comment's thrown over your shoulder as you start to head in the direction opposite of them, not wanting anything to do with them. With this ugly feeling of dissonance they bring along with them. They're not like anything you've ever met, and...
There's too much. You have a lot to do and places to be to start keeping an eye on this weirdo.
You really hope you're wrong, but you get the feeling you're not so lucky...
But you think they might be short of something very important.
... It's about the time that you're getting annoyed over all that effort it took to get that stupid lamp from the dump all the way over to your checkpoint that you realize you're spacing out again, and you think some people have taken notice of your eyelights boring into things by the way they dodge your gaze.
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{ Looks like Mettaton stopped by earlier today! He's left a "while you were out" sticker on the fridge, and a grease-soaked, plain paper bag on the counter. Inside is a grilled cheese patty-melt, a burger, some crispy fries, and a stained note that reads: "Fry love you!", and something he's heard a thousand times this week about feeling better and talking to him whenever he'd like. There's a shot of whiskey on the counter nearby, sitting on a branded Grillby's napkin. }
{ It's a little bit of time before the intended recipient finds their way to this thoughtful gift... }
Though, annoyingly, it seems as though someone else noticed the whiskey before Lv did and promptly dumped it out. (Faintly, he can still smell the distinctive aroma wafting from the sink nearby.)
Annoying booze denials and room temperature burgers aside, it's an awfully nice thing to come back to after god knows how long of sulking and avoiding everyone as avidly as possible.Maybe he'll put something together as thanks later. For now, no time like the present to... idly pick at his food on his own.
