              @sans-asterhorror needs disaster relief. or maybe comic relief.
------magi-nuclear apocalypse.
Boy, was it ever cold out tonight.
   Sansy had packed his backpack carefully-- he’d taken everything out of it and redone it. It was more than triple his body weight now, bulky and huge and expanded to the full extent of its canvas sides. He was going to have to be ready for this one. Currently he was triple-checking his autosending text messages on his phone to make sure he’d added Sans to the list of in-case-of-soul-muffling messages. Could never be too careful.
  ....why on earth was he doing this?
Curiosity, maybe. The satisfaction of short-term results. A little empathy, deep down in that cyan soul of his. Or another taste of that quiet madness that captured his attention some nights, when his work was getting too distressing. Putting more stress on yourself was sure a funny way to unwind-- but hey, it worked sometimes. Made him feel like he was really living. And maybe helped people out in the process. Or maybe his suspicions were correct, and he just liked being stupid.
   Either way, it was only a quick hop through the nothingness for him to land in the timeline he’d traced via Undernet signal. His eyes flicked around the brand new surroundings, arms hanging loose at his sides rather that in his pockets as usual. Was that Sans somewhere around? He didn’t really want to just wander around here... though it wouldn’t be the most dangerous place he’d wandered through. Probably.
