Frisk is fearlessly still during that little display. (They can't see Tauriel, too busy looking at Sans, but she'd be getting a disapproving look if they'd seen those knives.)

They cross their arms in front of them and lean forward, until they're quite literally leaning on his face. Rude, maybe, but they're not feeling particularly polite right now.

"Yeah. 'M still just Frisk. And you're a science dragon now. And you didn't tell me."