I have no idea.

In one year, I've been through the FNAF fandom, Earthbound Fandom, and now the Undertale Fandom. I'm terrified about what I'll enjoy next. My emotions can't keep going through this stuff.

[speedracerfaces]

[laxoongarfl]

one last boop for the road bro

[vincent-harkin]

I’m dying inside.

Too adorable!

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent visibly frowned at Sans when he just went along with the entire knock-out thing. -

* I knew it…

-God he was clueless. Cute as a damn button, with all that fur and the face of a hairy aquatic killer, but clueless none the less! ~~~ But… The door.-

[There it was. For all anyone was concerned, it had always been there from the very beginning, when the kingdom began to bloom, after the war was lost, and when the Queen was still around in the public eye. The door was a testament to Monster history, being the first barrier erected to mitigate those willing to stay behind, while the others ventured on further. According to the history books, this is where King Asgore first stood home, before moving off after the events of the fallen child to New Home. ~~~ Lousy names, sometimes he never got around to naming something, much akin to Vincent’s home. The door stood against time and weather, reaching for the heavens with it’s unimaginable length. It loomed like a monster of its own, the purple hue cast of it’s frame menacing, and cold~ Much like the frozen tundra that ravished this side of the waste-barren land. Vincent didn’t seem to take heed of Sans’ inquiry of his bettered mood. But the wide bird-like stare seemed to speak volumes for what was going through his dense skull.]

-He was happy. This was not a pointless goal for a pointless cause. This was above him, and beyond  his understanding for why it made him feel… Good. This was why he left home. Finding self worth and going out on an adventure. It all lead up to here, even if the in-between parts were entirely cut out of the shrinking equation. ~ The creature stalked forward with heavy feet, the crisp crunch of snow scrunched into tiny plumes upon each step, and an unsteady hand tried to reach and lay upon the outer panel of the door. He wanted to open it and head inside, but — It was locked, right? He tried anyway, managing to get his claws into the crack, but~ it didn’t matter if he pulled, or pushed. That door wasn’t going to budge with him alone. Though he did decide to give it a few knocks, just for good measure.-

*… Before the war, my grandparents were traveling medicine-merchants that roamed country side to country side. We were smart with knowing what plants did what to people, often creating salves and balms that either restored skin to it’s original glory, or seal up wounds before they became infected. We were treated with respect, and personal revenue in a world that was constantly growing. But… The war set that straight. I was to follow in their footsteps and do the same, helping people, creating new medicine, travel the country side without a house to call home. But…. I watch Mettaton on the telly, now. I couldn’t even tell you any of the local plants that grew around here or what they could do to a body.

*But my parents sure could have, if they were still around.

-Vincent kept his bony hand locked tight on the door’s front panel, almost wishing it wasn’t there any more. Maybe he could leave for the ruins and climb out through ‘The great mouth’. Maybe the barrier prevented departure from all locations. Hard telling.-

*I’d like to go home. But there’s a door in the way.

*And I can’t budge it.

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* Sans stands back and lets Vincent give his little spiel, his eyes growing heavy. He just managed to make himself feel worse knowing he was going to disappoint Vincent yet again when he gets his chance to talk.

* listen… * vincent. buddy. pal. * i’d like to help you get home, i really would. * in fact, i wish i could just zap us up there right now, but…

* He sighs and stares at the Door.

* i’m just so tired, vincent. * maybe i could.. help you out tomorrow..?

* There he goes again, starting to doze off in mid conversation.

[vincent-harkin]

-There was silence, and a smile. An unlikely pair of anomalies standing around in the middle of nowhere, gawking at a big stupid door in the freezing cold. This was stupid, and emotional. Yet, this was one of the best things Vincent has done for himself. One door may close, but another always opens, just have to look in the right spot.-

*Hm? Actually, Sans. Just getting a chance to talk to you tomorrow would be all I need. Now. I’ll do to you as you’ve done to me.

*Momma said walk-you-out.

-Nobody have the monster permission to do such a thing, but given with how Tired Sans was, he didn’t imagine he’d get a whole lot of restraint. Vincent moved dangerously close to the tiny skeleton man, and did his best to put a considerable amount of weight onto his upper-body, in attempt to push him backwards onto his ass. However, if Sans did lazily allow himself to fall back (Which wouldn’t be a long fall, given how short he was.) - he’d find that Vincent swooped a hand under both of his legs, while the remaining arm nestled against his back, prompting the skeleton to be carried bridal style. Wedding bells might as well play at this point if Vincent was able to get this far. It seemed he was going to carry him all the way back to Snowdin. It didn’t matter if Sans was heavy or not, Vincent had a shockingly solid grip, and enough strength to suplex the skeleton if he truly wanted to.-

*Sleep. Sans. Sleep.

-It’d be a long walk back to Snowdin. But, it’d be worth it.-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent would have been far more excited if his spirits over the steak weren’t already crushed. By setting his standards for the door ever lower than he previously imagined, he’d save himself some heartache if things didn’t turn out for the better. — But, once again, Sans seemed to knock his sorry ass out, drag him all the way to Snowdin, and wake him up mid stride. No. That, literally, was impossible. To M.T.T? Sure. Back? - There’s no way that his body wouldn’t have been covered in snow, or soot, or whatever the hell the ground was made up of now, he couldn’t keep track of it any more. ~~~ BUT SURELY He would have figured out he was teleporting about by now. There were no other obvious reasons to all this damn hopping to and fro~-

*YOU DID IT AGAIN, SANS. WHAT THE HELL.

-Of course he couldn’t help but feel a little upset it happened a second time, right under his nose when he was half expecting it, no less. But alas, there was nothing he could do - warping through time and space seemed to have no ill effects against the lizard-mon either. But it sure as hell boggle-foggle his mind, and irritate him to no end. There was no rationalizing what was going on between himself and Sans whenever they jumped together.-

*I’ll figure out how you do it some day! Today isn’t that day, but - some day!

-Whatever. The ruins weren’t too far ahead. At the pace Sans was going, they’d get there in a matter of moments. But why was he rushing again? There was plenty of time, right?-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* yeah, yeah. * i knocked you out and dragged you back to snowdin, all that happy fun time stuff, etc etc. * just go with it.

* Sans crosses the bridge and hastily approaches the Door. There it is, in all its purple glory. He lets out a sigh of relief and puts a gloved hand on its cold, stone surface. He’s not as much of a disappointment as he had originally thought.

* … see, look, there it is. * there’s the door, just like you wanted.

* He pants, looking back at Vincent with tired eyes.

* feeling better yet?

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent visibly frowned at Sans when he just went along with the entire knock-out thing. -

* I knew it...

-God he was clueless. Cute as a damn button, with all that fur and the face of a hairy aquatic killer, but clueless none the less! ~~~ But... The door.-

[There it was. For all anyone was concerned, it had always been there from the very beginning, when the kingdom began to bloom, after the war was lost, and when the Queen was still around in the public eye. The door was a testament to Monster history, being the first barrier erected to mitigate those willing to stay behind, while the others ventured on further. According to the history books, this is where King Asgore first stood home, before moving off after the events of the fallen child to New Home. ~~~ Lousy names, sometimes he never got around to naming something, much akin to Vincent’s home. The door stood against time and weather, reaching for the heavens with it’s unimaginable length. It loomed like a monster of its own, the purple hue cast of it’s frame menacing, and cold~ Much like the frozen tundra that ravished this side of the waste-barren land. Vincent didn’t seem to take heed of Sans’ inquiry of his bettered mood. But the wide bird-like stare seemed to speak volumes for what was going through his dense skull.]

-He was happy. This was not a pointless goal for a pointless cause. This was above him, and beyond  his understanding for why it made him feel... Good. This was why he left home. Finding self worth and going out on an adventure. It all lead up to here, even if the in-between parts were entirely cut out of the shrinking equation. ~ The creature stalked forward with heavy feet, the crisp crunch of snow scrunched into tiny plumes upon each step, and an unsteady hand tried to reach and lay upon the outer panel of the door. He wanted to open it and head inside, but --- It was locked, right? He tried anyway, managing to get his claws into the crack, but~ it didn’t matter if he pulled, or pushed. That door wasn’t going to budge with him alone. Though he did decide to give it a few knocks, just for good measure.-

*... Before the war, my grandparents were traveling medicine-merchants that roamed country side to country side. We were smart with knowing what plants did what to people, often creating salves and balms that either restored skin to it’s original glory, or seal up wounds before they became infected. We were treated with respect, and personal revenue in a world that was constantly growing. But... The war set that straight. I was to follow in their footsteps and do the same, helping people, creating new medicine, travel the country side without a house to call home. But.... I watch Mettaton on the telly, now. I couldn’t even tell you any of the local plants that grew around here or what they could do to a body.

*But my parents sure could have, if they were still around.

-Vincent kept his bony hand locked tight on the door’s front panel, almost wishing it wasn’t there any more. Maybe he could leave for the ruins and climb out through ‘The great mouth’. Maybe the barrier prevented departure from all locations. Hard telling.-

*I’d like to go home. But there’s a door in the way.

*And I can’t budge it.

[king-asgore]

(( ther’s almost 600 of you guys following me….uhh..

guess I should do something for that? ))

[vincent-harkin]

A king and his followers.

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent, while nearly twice the size of Sans in height and possibly weight, was force-ripped from his comfortable seat right to the head of the main entrance/exit. He didn’t remember Sans being so close before - did he get knocked out again? Where was his mind when Sans kept jumping about? Maybe it was the Skeleton, rather than himself. Typical egotistical monster. -

*Woah woah woah! Chill out, Sans! Don’t be so rough!

-Though with that new look on Vincent’s face, that regained ounce of hope to head all the way back to Snowdin to visit the door~ It felt good. It looked good, even - and the dullness of his fur faded away. Little by little, bit by bit, his uppity-sheen became more and more apparent. The door was a staple of Monster history, almost more of a monument than the castle. This is where they all started, down in the depths of the ruins, before cast out to the rest of the dreary underground. If worse came to worse, he could head back to Grillbys, get a non-ketchup ruined meal, and maybe crash in the librarby he saw not too far away.-

-Wait… Did it actually say Librarby? …. Did Grillby actually own it?-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* Once again, they were somehow at the snow-covered bridge where it all began. Sans seemed pretty eager to get to the Ruins, and he continues to trudge forward, carefully stepping onto the bridge.

* c’mon, look, it’s right up ahead. * that was fast, wasn’t it?

* Sans really didn’t want to be such a “disappointment” this time, so that might be why he so quickly teleported the two back to Snowdin. Although, using his powers for something as frivolous as this was starting to make him dizzy. He’s not usually this active.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent would have been far more excited if his spirits over the steak weren’t already crushed. By setting his standards for the door ever lower than he previously imagined, he’d save himself some heartache if things didn’t turn out for the better. --- But, once again, Sans seemed to knock his sorry ass out, drag him all the way to Snowdin, and wake him up mid stride. No. That, literally, was impossible. To M.T.T? Sure. Back? - There’s no way that his body wouldn’t have been covered in snow, or soot, or whatever the hell the ground was made up of now, he couldn’t keep track of it any more. ~~~ BUT SURELY He would have figured out he was teleporting about by now. There were no other obvious reasons to all this damn hopping to and fro~-

*YOU DID IT AGAIN, SANS. WHAT THE HELL.

-Of course he couldn’t help but feel a little upset it happened a second time, right under his nose when he was half expecting it, no less. But alas, there was nothing he could do - warping through time and space seemed to have no ill effects against the lizard-mon either. But it sure as hell boggle-foggle his mind, and irritate him to no end. There was no rationalizing what was going on between himself and Sans whenever they jumped together.-

*I’ll figure out how you do it some day! Today isn’t that day, but - some day!

-Whatever. The ruins weren’t too far ahead. At the pace Sans was going, they’d get there in a matter of moments. But why was he rushing again? There was plenty of time, right?-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

Hey, one question... You only rp with other undertale characters or what? i mean, i do not rp as an undertale character so, you know, just wanna know.

i rp with anyone and anything hit me up fam

[vincent-harkin]

We have been going back for the past week or so now, and I’m just some random ass OC dude.

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

—- The funny part was, Sans didn’t fail Vincent. Vincent failed himself, and he had no one to blame, but - himself. The kid lead his entire life’s dream to one insignificant moment without understanding the hazards, the risks, the expenses~ None of it. The steak didn’t matter any more, truly, it didn’t, he had far bigger problems on his mind than to defile Mettaton’s rectangular face with a crude joke about mayo and ketchup. He was just angry at the entire situation about the underground, and was taking it out on one of the most popular icons of their T.V broadcasters - an unjustified hate for poor reasons other than the angst caused by the human race~ Surely Sans could see that the steak did seem to be a lost cause by now. Vincent did~ He was already forming a new, more realistic, and fulfilling goal than what was previously on his bucket list. If anything, he at least got to ‘see’ the Mettaton-face-shaped slap of meat. Sans, however, seemed to take Vincent’s advice on leaving per-gestured by his dismissive hand. He didn’t think he’d actually leave him without a word, but there he went. Off beyond the fountain, and to who knows where.-

-Not only were his abandoned dreams were useless and pointless, but the man who teleported his sorry ass was walking out that door, and Vincent didn’t have to heart to try and stop him. ~~~ He was starting to have a bad time.-

*… Now I have to walk all the way back to Snowdin for that door.

-Oh, that’s right. That OTHER goal. -

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* And with just those simple words, Sans freezes in his tracks mid-stride. He stares at the floor, eyes wide. The door. THE DOOR. He completely forgot about the door! He turns on his heel and suddenly appears in front of Vincent, his blue eye flashing up at him.

* the Door! * c’mon, we gotta go to the Door!

* Out of pure sleep deprivation, he takes Vincent’s hand and turns right back around, forcefully pulling him out of the fancy establishment.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent, while nearly twice the size of Sans in height and possibly weight, was force-ripped from his comfortable seat right to the head of the main entrance/exit. He didn’t remember Sans being so close before - did he get knocked out again? Where was his mind when Sans kept jumping about? Maybe it was the Skeleton, rather than himself. Typical egotistical monster. -

*Woah woah woah! Chill out, Sans! Don’t be so rough!

-Though with that new look on Vincent’s face, that regained ounce of hope to head all the way back to Snowdin to visit the door~ It felt good. It looked good, even - and the dullness of his fur faded away. Little by little, bit by bit, his uppity-sheen became more and more apparent. The door was a staple of Monster history, almost more of a monument than the castle. This is where they all started, down in the depths of the ruins, before cast out to the rest of the dreary underground. If worse came to worse, he could head back to Grillbys, get a non-ketchup ruined meal, and maybe crash in the librarby he saw not too far away.-

-Wait... Did it actually say Librarby? .... Did Grillby actually own it?-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-Sans would have noticed that the healthy sheen on Vincent’s coat of silky charcoal-hued fur began to grow dull, to the point where he seemed old, shaggy, and tired.  It happened over the course of a single minute, and he looked more sick than he did back at Grillbys with all that ketchup on his stomach.  Life was lost when the price of the steak, and the realization that it wasn’t much to tamper with came to fruition, like his goals amounted to literally nothing. The trouble to get that damn steak would have been more than what it was worth. Vincent’s goal, a childish, juvenile, low-set goal of vandalizing Mettaton’s face was literally worth more in gold than in self fulfillment value. It was hard to come to terms with, but… There it was, staring him in the face with its greasy, overpriced grace. Pathetic.-

*…No. I don’t..

-Moving as slow as Sans, if not more so, the lumbering lizard man hunched out of the restaurant, and slid his back against the wall just outside of its confines. His slumped mass was drug to the floor in a heap of muddled flesh, his gaze staring down to nothing in particular. He didn’t look good. He was struggling to keep composure in front of all of the people that already started to give him strange glances and numerous whispers. -

*I don’t like Mettaton.

-Rare words spoken, he’d continue, his volume picking up enough for Sans to overhear, though not much more than that.-

*Everything about him just feels so fake and gimmicky. Like there isn’t true care about the entertainment value on what is broadcasted, only that he’s popular, and everyone knows his face. For goodness sakes, look at that fountain, Sans. He’s literally standing on top with water crashing out onto a carpeted floor. That’s probably drinkable water, and I ain’t saying we don’t have plenty of water, but it seems wasteful, draining out like that.

*That’s what makes me sick. Yeah, I’m excited to be here, the lights, the atmosphere, people, all of that…  but when the one true worth I hold myself to, is virtually useless, that makes me feel useless as well, you get me?

*That and, I feel like we’re all not treated with respect, when our main source of entertainment is a robot flaunting wildly about. I don’t see broadcasts of people from Snowdin trying to attract visitors with their tree-thing, nor have I seen anyone from any of the unnamed cities come by to give in their bits of entertainment. I’d like to watch a comedy or an action movie now and again, you know? One that’s written well and isn’t just made to be a cash cow.

-He fell silent again, though his hand raised up towards the air, and fanned outwards towards the main door, dismissively.-

*I’ve wasted enough of your time. I’m sorry, Sans.

-Most of what he said could have been counter argued rather easily, but it wasn’t hard to tell he was a mix between angry and depressed given the circumstances. ~~~ And they didn’t even get a chance to visit ‘The Door’.-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* Sans is silent for a moment, letting Vincent’s words sink in. “I’ve wasted enough of your time.”. That phrase seemed so familiar to him, and it just makes his nonexistent heart sink in his chest. A chill runs up his spine when the realization hits him. He’s failed someone again. Again. Although he knows this is all because of some stupid steak, it hits him like a goddamn sledge hammer. 

* A shiver runs up his spine and his eyes actually start to burn. Just knowing he’s disappointed Vincent made him feel terrible. Horrible. He’s filled with remorse. It just reminds him of all the other times he’s failed his friends, even with a simple task. He pulls his hands out of his pockets as he turns to walk to the door. He simply looks down at his gloved hands, eyes wide. Can’t even do something as simple as that, huh Sans? The whole situation may seem ridiculous at first glance, yes, but it managed to remind him of everything else he’s fucked up.

* He follows Vincent out, although he doesn’t stop at the door. He keeps walking. Can’t stop, won’t stop. Sans is too far zoned out to notice where he’s going.

[vincent-harkin]

---- The funny part was, Sans didn’t fail Vincent. Vincent failed himself, and he had no one to blame, but - himself. The kid lead his entire life’s dream to one insignificant moment without understanding the hazards, the risks, the expenses~ None of it. The steak didn’t matter any more, truly, it didn’t, he had far bigger problems on his mind than to defile Mettaton’s rectangular face with a crude joke about mayo and ketchup. He was just angry at the entire situation about the underground, and was taking it out on one of the most popular icons of their T.V broadcasters - an unjustified hate for poor reasons other than the angst caused by the human race~ Surely Sans could see that the steak did seem to be a lost cause by now. Vincent did~ He was already forming a new, more realistic, and fulfilling goal than what was previously on his bucket list. If anything, he at least got to ‘see’ the Mettaton-face-shaped slap of meat. Sans, however, seemed to take Vincent’s advice on leaving per-gestured by his dismissive hand. He didn’t think he’d actually leave him without a word, but there he went. Off beyond the fountain, and to who knows where.-

-Not only were his abandoned dreams were useless and pointless, but the man who teleported his sorry ass was walking out that door, and Vincent didn’t have to heart to try and stop him. ~~~ He was starting to have a bad time.-

*... Now I have to walk all the way back to Snowdin for that door.

-Oh, that’s right. That OTHER goal. -

[vincent-harkin]

Sometimes I imagine myself falling asleep, and waking up in a different world - where I could make any fantasy or dream come true by merely imaging it. In this world, I am not a king, but a citizen, mulling about with carefree attitudes and lackluster ambitions. The feeling of true laziness with the occasional chat with a friend brings me no greater joy.

Of course, everyone and everything I love would be there as well, ranging from family, to various books, and video game characters. I could get lost every single day and have an adventure with the people I love, each as grand as the last, gaining magnificent friends on each journey - and worthy rivals as well.

There’s no real danger, no one has to die. Hell, no one can. Why would we? There may always be a sense of dread some days, or a high vibration of suspense and tension. Though, it’s an illusion, as believable as the real thing. Nightmares can become as real as life its self, each giving us strength and value as we overcome them. They teach us to be brave, and continue forward.

It would never end - each day was its own ‘Perfect moment’, the next seemingly more perfect than the last. But... Then...?

I wake up.

[shadowedformlovingheart-blog]

That is the face of a woman who will bake you pie and set your ass on fire in the same day

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent was a big boy, he’d get over the teleporting gimmick sooner or later, and given with how quick he dropped it for a shot at Mettaton’s face steak, it’d be sooner, rather than later. The charcoal and red, lanky lizard creature looked like an over excited dog, wracking his tail back and forth in a melodic tempo to the beat of the overlaying song that homed through the entire Hotel. A slightly upbeat beach-tune that screamed generic luxury. The man behind the hamburger stand was some kind of cigarette-smoking teenaged punk, whom of which obviously hated his job and wore a smile more fake than  a pair of hookers’ breasts.  Not like Vincent knew what that was. Goodness, no.-

*Sans! Check it out! There it is, on the menu, look!

-The giddy beast could hardly hold his excitement, his bony pointer finger trembling as it hovered towards the direction where Mettaton’s face was clearly pictured as a sold item within the burger joint. This was it, the accumulation of Vincent’s short journey had lead him up to this very instant. While it was short, and lost some value after Sans CLEARLY knocked him out, he was still happy to finally get some closure.-

*I’ll have the steak in the shape of Mettatons face, please!

-Before Vincent could receive his steak, the cashier shook their head from side to side, sternly pointing out the absurd price that was listed within it. Five hundred gold pieces.  As it currently stated, Vincent only had five gold, some pocket lint, and a piece of butterscotch candy from some name-brand candy store on the top side. The cashier wouldn’t even look at Vincent, and the piece of steak would remain locked up, just within reach.-

*……

-Naturally, Vincent was crushed at the realization that he didn’t have the kind of money to get what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to stoop so low as to steal it, that’d ruin the entire experience of defiling Mettaton’s face to begin with. With a heavy heart, Vince would turn back around to Sans, whom should have eventually caught up to him at this point. He just stared with his blank, expressionless eyes for a few seconds, his voice eventually breaking the soft silence, filled with dread, grief… And perhaps. Determination?-

*I’ll have to get a job and work for that steak. Even if it takes me a few months to do it. I didn’t come all this way, forget most of where I’ve been, and arrive to M.T.T without getting that steak.  Maybe I’ll become a janitor, or perhaps a bellhop for ritzier customers. I’m going to get that steak, even if it kills me!

-Someone should really ask why he wanted to dick around with Mettaton’s face to begin with. He was playing with a particular fire that probably shouldn’t have been tampered with. -

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* you can’t be serious.

* Sans sighs, shaking his head. All this way for some lousy steak, and poor Vincent can’t even get it. What a shame, truly a tragedy of the ages. It’s literally just a steak in the shape of Mettaton’s face. HE’S LITERALLY JUST A FREAKING RECTANGLE. Sans covers his face with his palm and walks up to the counter, checking the price for himself.

* … Oof. That is a pretty high price for a crumby steak. Sans glares a bit to himself. This is the exact reason he hates big places like this. Everything’s so overpriced, and when you do get it, it’s really not how you would have expected it to be.

* listen, vince, do you really need that steak right now? * i mean, i spent all my money at grillby’s, and i’m pretty sure i’m getting paid tomorrow. * think maybe we could… * wait a bit?

[vincent-harkin]

-Sans would have noticed that the healthy sheen on Vincent’s coat of silky charcoal-hued fur began to grow dull, to the point where he seemed old, shaggy, and tired.  It happened over the course of a single minute, and he looked more sick than he did back at Grillbys with all that ketchup on his stomach.  Life was lost when the price of the steak, and the realization that it wasn’t much to tamper with came to fruition, like his goals amounted to literally nothing. The trouble to get that damn steak would have been more than what it was worth. Vincent’s goal, a childish, juvenile, low-set goal of vandalizing Mettaton’s face was literally worth more in gold than in self fulfillment value. It was hard to come to terms with, but... There it was, staring him in the face with its greasy, overpriced grace. Pathetic.-

*...No. I don’t..

-Moving as slow as Sans, if not more so, the lumbering lizard man hunched out of the restaurant, and slid his back against the wall just outside of its confines. His slumped mass was drug to the floor in a heap of muddled flesh, his gaze staring down to nothing in particular. He didn’t look good. He was struggling to keep composure in front of all of the people that already started to give him strange glances and numerous whispers. -

*I don’t like Mettaton.

-Rare words spoken, he’d continue, his volume picking up enough for Sans to overhear, though not much more than that.-

*Everything about him just feels so fake and gimmicky. Like there isn’t true care about the entertainment value on what is broadcasted, only that he’s popular, and everyone knows his face. For goodness sakes, look at that fountain, Sans. He’s literally standing on top with water crashing out onto a carpeted floor. That’s probably drinkable water, and I ain’t saying we don’t have plenty of water, but it seems wasteful, draining out like that.

*That’s what makes me sick. Yeah, I’m excited to be here, the lights, the atmosphere, people, all of that...  but when the one true worth I hold myself to, is virtually useless, that makes me feel useless as well, you get me?

*That and, I feel like we’re all not treated with respect, when our main source of entertainment is a robot flaunting wildly about. I don’t see broadcasts of people from Snowdin trying to attract visitors with their tree-thing, nor have I seen anyone from any of the unnamed cities come by to give in their bits of entertainment. I’d like to watch a comedy or an action movie now and again, you know? One that’s written well and isn’t just made to be a cash cow.

-He fell silent again, though his hand raised up towards the air, and fanned outwards towards the main door, dismissively.-

*I’ve wasted enough of your time. I’m sorry, Sans.

-Most of what he said could have been counter argued rather easily, but it wasn’t hard to tell he was a mix between angry and depressed given the circumstances. ~~~ And they didn’t even get a chance to visit ‘The Door’.-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent was so far set on the idea that Sans knocked him out by merely touching his hand that it was the only thing he wanted to believe. Naturally, being knocked out like that would have made anyone upset. But, the fact the fuzzy lizard monster wasn’t in any sort of pain (Aside from the acid rampaging through his stomach thanks to the ketchup prank.)  would obviously negate any sort of ‘knocking out.’ Honestly, Vincent didn’t know what the hell happened, and Sans didn’t seem the kind of guy that would give him any straight answer. -

*… Well, maybe I don’t believe it as much as I did two seconds ago, but I sure as hell don’t know what to call what just happened to me.

*And I don’t think you’re weak, Sans. You obviously managed to get me from Snowdin, all the way to the entrance of M.T.T while skipping all of the in-between parts.

-None of that seemed to matter. They were at M.T.T, finally - one of Vincent’s goals  to travel to, and they were finally here! It was a little more anticlimactic now that the entire journey was cut to nothing, but at least they were finally there.-

[Upon entering the ritzy establishment, the two would be greeted with a variance of scents ranging from fancy five star dinners, to greasy, glittery burgers - to over use of nail polish and cleaning goods, to even what smelt like a crisp waterfall crashing down right in the room. Coincidentally, straight ahead was a lush waterfall with Mettaton’s robotic square body spouting a fair amount of water onto the carpet, ruining any sort of decent fabric that might have been there to begin with. To their right hand side lined a series of potted, leafy green plants, along with some strange monsters lined up at an elevator, waiting for it to drop down and whisk them off to another level of the hotel. Along that side at the end of the room laid M.T.T its self, the lower budgeted diner that Vincent dreamed of visiting. There, the steak of Mettaton’s face could be found, and he wanted to defile it as much as he possibly could. However, to the left, there is a giant fucking HAND-MONSTER with all of its nails colored with a shiny crimson red hue, standing there with it’s… Lack of a face and massive fingers.  It looked kind of… Gross, to be honest. Definitely a ‘lady of the night’ kind of vibe going on over there. And further to the left seemed to spawn towards the ritzier diner that required reservations to even get inside. Vincent probably didn’t have the money for any of that kind of stuff.]

-Vincent basked in the warming lights of the hotel’s plaza, his bright eyes shining with a sense of wonderment at the size of the establishment. It was so roomy! The floors were hardened! There was running water and even working electricity all around! Everything felt like it had a vibe of human life decked onto it, like this could have been a real place up on topside. Just a chance to see what life could be like above ground filled the boy with several pounds of… SATISFACTION. Not much else on top of that, no determination here, nope! This was as good as it was going to get!-

*SANS. HOLY FUCK. LOOK!

-Unless Sans could teleport in front of Vincent and knock his ass back out, he’d have gone straight to the shoddy M.T.T diner across the way, jumping over at least half of the fountain in a dead sprint. There was something wrong with that boy, as determined as he was to defile Mettatons face. Did he have some kind of beef with the superstar or what?-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* Sans jumps a bit as Vincent sprints away, and he sighs and walks after him. He was far too tired to run. Looking up at the ceiling as he strolls a bit too leisurely, he can’t help but feel as though Vincent was a tad bit upset about the whole “teleporting” thing. He huffs and makes his way to the diner, checking his wallet for any more G. Great, he spent the rest of it at Grillby’s. Sans seems to growl under his breath, signing more profanities as he tucks everything back into his jacket pockets. He’s going to have to improvise to get his friend that steak. He’s going to get that goddamn steak if it’s the last thing he does.

* As he enters the diner, he looks around to see where Vincent had went, but he only sees the person running the cash register. Sans lets out a long, drawn out sigh. The stranger jumps nervously. This was going to be fun.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent was a big boy, he’d get over the teleporting gimmick sooner or later, and given with how quick he dropped it for a shot at Mettaton’s face steak, it’d be sooner, rather than later. The charcoal and red, lanky lizard creature looked like an over excited dog, wracking his tail back and forth in a melodic tempo to the beat of the overlaying song that homed through the entire Hotel. A slightly upbeat beach-tune that screamed generic luxury. The man behind the hamburger stand was some kind of cigarette-smoking teenaged punk, whom of which obviously hated his job and wore a smile more fake than  a pair of hookers’ breasts.  Not like Vincent knew what that was. Goodness, no.-

*Sans! Check it out! There it is, on the menu, look!

-The giddy beast could hardly hold his excitement, his bony pointer finger trembling as it hovered towards the direction where Mettaton’s face was clearly pictured as a sold item within the burger joint. This was it, the accumulation of Vincent’s short journey had lead him up to this very instant. While it was short, and lost some value after Sans CLEARLY knocked him out, he was still happy to finally get some closure.-

*I’ll have the steak in the shape of Mettatons face, please!

-Before Vincent could receive his steak, the cashier shook their head from side to side, sternly pointing out the absurd price that was listed within it. Five hundred gold pieces.  As it currently stated, Vincent only had five gold, some pocket lint, and a piece of butterscotch candy from some name-brand candy store on the top side. The cashier wouldn’t even look at Vincent, and the piece of steak would remain locked up, just within reach.-

*......

-Naturally, Vincent was crushed at the realization that he didn’t have the kind of money to get what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to stoop so low as to steal it, that’d ruin the entire experience of defiling Mettaton’s face to begin with. With a heavy heart, Vince would turn back around to Sans, whom should have eventually caught up to him at this point. He just stared with his blank, expressionless eyes for a few seconds, his voice eventually breaking the soft silence, filled with dread, grief... And perhaps. Determination?-

*I’ll have to get a job and work for that steak. Even if it takes me a few months to do it. I didn’t come all this way, forget most of where I’ve been, and arrive to M.T.T without getting that steak.  Maybe I’ll become a janitor, or perhaps a bellhop for ritzier customers. I’m going to get that steak, even if it kills me!

-Someone should really ask why he wanted to dick around with Mettaton’s face to begin with. He was playing with a particular fire that probably shouldn’t have been tampered with. -

[azeth-art]

My friend showed me this last night and I’ve been crying ever since

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

You know. "Knock Knock" - "Who's There?" - "Doctor." -- Hopefully I'm not really stretching to make this joke. That's Lesser Dogs' job.

* oh.* well if you wanted to set me up for the joke, you might want to get the first step done before the second.* i just woke up and i’m kinda slow right now, sorry.

[vincent-harkin]

-The spectral jump between time and space, with such little effort, really took the lizard man by storm - leaving about a thousand more questions in his head than either of them could possible handle. If anything, Vincent looked a little peeved, sternly slogging his arms tightly against his chest in the shape of an ‘X’ and staring  at the Skeleton in the back of his head. He was trying to pierce right through him with his stare.-

*WHAT THE HELL. You know what? Don’t even worry about knocking me out, dragging me several miles, and waking me up in  a standing position! Don’t even /Worry/ about it!

-Someone was salty, though he continued to follow Sans, like the bum he was.-

*Of course I am!

-This was a far much better prank than the loose ketchup bottle at Grillbys was, the monster showed a little more range of emotion for once.-

[punny-bones-deactivated20160305]

* whoa, what? you think i knocked you out?

* Sans looks up at Vincent as he puts a hand on the glass door, looking genuinely concerned for his friend. He tries to stifle his laughter as he opens the door, now thoroughly amused.

* pft, oh man, sorry. i wouldn’t do that unless i had to. trust me on that one. * by the way, i think that’s pretty much impossible for me to do. * i mean, admittedly, i am pretty weak, and i don’t think i’d have been able to drag you so far without dropping from exhaustion.

[vincent-harkin]

-Vincent was so far set on the idea that Sans knocked him out by merely touching his hand that it was the only thing he wanted to believe. Naturally, being knocked out like that would have made anyone upset. But, the fact the fuzzy lizard monster wasn’t in any sort of pain (Aside from the acid rampaging through his stomach thanks to the ketchup prank.)  would obviously negate any sort of ‘knocking out.’ Honestly, Vincent didn’t know what the hell happened, and Sans didn’t seem the kind of guy that would give him any straight answer. -

*... Well, maybe I don’t believe it as much as I did two seconds ago, but I sure as hell don’t know what to call what just happened to me.

*And I don’t think you’re weak, Sans. You obviously managed to get me from Snowdin, all the way to the entrance of M.T.T while skipping all of the in-between parts.

-None of that seemed to matter. They were at M.T.T, finally - one of Vincent’s goals  to travel to, and they were finally here! It was a little more anticlimactic now that the entire journey was cut to nothing, but at least they were finally there.-

[Upon entering the ritzy establishment, the two would be greeted with a variance of scents ranging from fancy five star dinners, to greasy, glittery burgers - to over use of nail polish and cleaning goods, to even what smelt like a crisp waterfall crashing down right in the room. Coincidentally, straight ahead was a lush waterfall with Mettaton’s robotic square body spouting a fair amount of water onto the carpet, ruining any sort of decent fabric that might have been there to begin with. To their right hand side lined a series of potted, leafy green plants, along with some strange monsters lined up at an elevator, waiting for it to drop down and whisk them off to another level of the hotel. Along that side at the end of the room laid M.T.T its self, the lower budgeted diner that Vincent dreamed of visiting. There, the steak of Mettaton’s face could be found, and he wanted to defile it as much as he possibly could. However, to the left, there is a giant fucking HAND-MONSTER with all of its nails colored with a shiny crimson red hue, standing there with it’s... Lack of a face and massive fingers.  It looked kind of... Gross, to be honest. Definitely a ‘lady of the night’ kind of vibe going on over there. And further to the left seemed to spawn towards the ritzier diner that required reservations to even get inside. Vincent probably didn’t have the money for any of that kind of stuff.]

-Vincent basked in the warming lights of the hotel’s plaza, his bright eyes shining with a sense of wonderment at the size of the establishment. It was so roomy! The floors were hardened! There was running water and even working electricity all around! Everything felt like it had a vibe of human life decked onto it, like this could have been a real place up on topside. Just a chance to see what life could be like above ground filled the boy with several pounds of... SATISFACTION. Not much else on top of that, no determination here, nope! This was as good as it was going to get!-

*SANS. HOLY FUCK. LOOK!

-Unless Sans could teleport in front of Vincent and knock his ass back out, he’d have gone straight to the shoddy M.T.T diner across the way, jumping over at least half of the fountain in a dead sprint. There was something wrong with that boy, as determined as he was to defile Mettatons face. Did he have some kind of beef with the superstar or what?-

[boingo]

Don't feel bad about the test, dudette! Most of my teachers were asshats that just read from the book, they didn't really know about the material, or they were so damn weird with their teaching that everyone in the class would fail. Take a moment, ask to see if there's a way to retake it and try again! You'll succeed next time, yo!

thank you! im just worried about apush because my world history teacher last year was really bad at teaching. hell, he didn’t even teach, he just gave us quizzes and tests. (i ended up getting a 2 lol) my apush teacher is preparing us better than my previous teacher, so i feel i’ll pass. the class is still fucking annoying with all the homework/reading piled on w/ 6 other honors and ap classes

[vincent-harkin]

Aww hell yeah, gurl! And I’m going to assume you’re just within a year or two reach of Senior year. Keep your head up and finish out strong. But I know how you feel about teachers that give out unending tests, never work with the students, or generally just don’t give a damn about what they do in class. It’s a shame to see that most teachers just go there to collect an easy paycheck from week to week. Even in college, there are plenty of teachers that just read from a summary, and make you figure out the rest on your own.

Kind of makes me wonder if it’ll ever get better, or if it’s just getting worse.

[bs-el]

Did you really think that was the end?

[vincent-harkin]

What a smug dick. SmugFuckingDick.

Loveit<3