“Why won’t this Greene guy answer his DAMN COMM!?” Frisk jumped awake at the angry shout, heart pounding in her chest and magic flaring to life at her fingertips, anxiety molding it to form. As the words echoed in the cargo hold her panic faded, smothered under a blanket of alert calm and awareness. Some of…

Frisk watched the spaceport from her hiding place among pallets and shipping crates waiting to be loaded. Her stomach twisted with anxiety at the sheer number of people around her, the open space. Every time someone came too close to her hiding spot, Frisk flinched away, back into the shadows. She jumped at any sound…

—Red— Red snorted as he read Sans’ misspelled name on his cup of coffee. “ ‘sands’, eh?” They’d left The Parlor and were again walking the paths of the park, Red trying to make aimless conversation as he built up the nerve to break the question. “it’s course, rough, and irritatin’,” Sans answered with a…

—Red— Red held the café door open for Sans, noting how hard his counterpart was shivering with a frown. “y’shoulda worn a thicker coat,” Red commented as they took their place at the back of the queue. “yer shakin’ like a fuckin’ maraca.” “it’s the s-song of my p-people,” Sans snarked back as his teeth…

—Sans— He hadn’t meant to come home late. Sans had been forced to stop working his hot dog cart by the arrival of winter. As the first snows melted to slush people stopped going outdoors during the day, and it wasn’t profitable enough for the company to continue running his stand. He’d secretly been grateful.…

—Sans— He hadn’t meant to come home late. Sans had been forced to stop working his hot dog cart by the arrival of winter. As the first snows melted to slush people stopped going outdoors during the day, and it wasn’t profitable enough for the company to continue running his stand. He’d secretly been grateful.…

—Red— Sans’ pun surprised Red and for a moment all he could do was stare at his alternate. After his earlier attempt had fallen flat he had assumed Sans shared his brother’s hatred of wordplay. He was even more surprised when Sans let out a short bark of laughter, both at his own joke and at Red’s…

—Red— The problem, Red decided, was that he was both too damn curious and too damn stubborn to ignore his curiosity. It was going to get him killed someday. It had been a week since he’d taken Sans to The Parlor, and he hadn’t been able to get the Tale skeleton out of his skull.…

“wouldja smooch your clone?” Red looked at Mutt over his beer, considering the question. It was rhetorical but … “which one? got at least three, depending’ on how y’ look ’t us. an’ i’d argue black is ’s much my clone as you are.” “the one most like you,” Stretch said, stopping the impending argument…

—Sans— 5:08 Sans leaned against his closed bedroom door, watching time tick by on his phone. Ready to go, in case Red actually showed up. 5:09 When Sans had told his brother about going out for coffee with Red, Papyrus had seemed to take it well. At least, once he understood that Sans hadn’t been…