“Me!” Chara finished their pleads within a different space. They no longer saw Riverperson’s boat, but the cold stone walls of their room within Gaster’s lab. Their prison cell. Chara knew instantly their plan had failed horribly.
Their mind had no time to wander. They felt their arm squeezed tightly. They winced. They then felt themselves thrown into the nearby wall of their cell. They cried out and slunk down to the cold stone floor. Gaster glared down at them. His voice was quiet and dark, “How did you escape?”
Chara whimpered and curled in on themselves. Their breath became heavy. They barely spoke under their breath, “I was so close…”
Gaster growled. He swiftly grasped Chara’s hair. Chara whined and whimpered as Gaster raised them up to their tip-toes by their hair alone. He raised his voice, “How did you escape?! Answer me!”
Chara’s eyes snapped closed. Their hands tried desperately
Welcome to Ebott Acres!
Bloodthirsty hid within one of the large ceramic pots near the storage tent Black Widow had pointed out, exhausted.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU LITTLE DEMON?!" Yelled Symbol angrily.
He glanced through a large crack in the pot out at the camp that was currently being torn apart by the Fonts he had woken up.
People ran in all directions trying to escape the vicious skeletons, tripping over one another and pushing each other down. If B
The creators of project SA-N5 are without a doubt the three most underappreciated and most undeservedly overlooked monsters in the entire underground. Yes, they do all inhabit a position that most others in their field can only lust after in dreams, and yes, they do earn an insane amount of money. But what good do money and prestige do if they can't even get you allowance to work on one of the rarest resources of monsterkind? Blueprints of human souls, that is the most they can ever hope for. Apparently one has to be a Royal Scientist in order to even look at the actual souls. And the three Assisting Royal Scientists, as it is, are sat in their laboratory. Bored out of their enormous minds.
They are also most definitely not wallowing in self-pity, thank you very much.
Boredom, as is generally known, can lead to rather questionable actions. Much in the same nature one might start tossing peanuts into a sleeping colleague's open mouth, the three scienti
SA-N5 has some trouble with words. It knows what words are ‒ at least, it thinks it does. But making them is difficult, especially outside its own head to make others hear them. Written words are easier, somehow. There is a little tag bound to its wrist with its designation "SA-N5" written on it. It can read and understand that just fine, but thinking it in terms of words and sound is complicated. Es-Ay-En-Five. That's long.
It decides to read it differently. Sa-n5. Sanfive. But the 5 looks a lot like the S, so it becomes Sans. That's easy to think.
There is some stuff Sans just knows but can't remember from where, like letters and how to read them, and some other stuff it remembers hearing the creators talk about while it was in the tank, like that it's defective and has to be useful. It doesn't know why it had to leave the tank. Now there are many new things it doesn't understand and many of them hurt.
But it does know that the