let's hear it for the boy

[trombones]

Another day, another toddler. Now, there's a small skeleton monster wandering the castle. He's three years old to be exact, but who here could date the exact age of walking, talking bones? It's easy to tell it's Sans. He's shorter than usual, a lot more bug-eyed (socketed, whatever), but that blue jacket and perma-grin are still dare. He's pretty cute for a monster who grew up to be a walking, talking grease machine.

For anyone wandering the library in the middle of the afternoon, you might find a pile of books and blankets piled at a table. The blankets cover most of the table, save for a small "entrance" supported by books. The blanket is just thin enough to see the candlelight inside, as well as a skeleton-shaped shadow.

Should you choose get closer, two pairs of large blue eyes glow from under the entrance and dart out. Two floating skulls, both resembling dogs, speed out and lap several circles around your feet in a flurry of barks and sniffing. Mostly sniffing. They're not really dangerous, they're actually pretty excited by the new company.

Sans pokes his head out.

"Hey! You guys are supposed to be guard dogs!!"

By now, the skulls are yipping and bouncing in their floating spots. Sans groans about as exasperatively as a toddler can get. Which is a lot, if you've ever met a three-year-old. They're pretty sassy. He props himself on his stomach, and in the gap he makes between the entrance and the candlelight, you might be able to catch the pile of Christmas-themed sweets stashed under the table. Like, a lot. He stole a lot of cookies.

"Hi. I'm Sans. This is my... this is my big cool fort. I got treasure and guard dogs and a moat."

He points to a pile of books laid in a uneven circle around the table. That's the moat.

Comments

[itstheend]

If Chara were older, and had therefore experienced a certain crummy juncture, the 'dogs' would not have recieved the... best reception.

As it is, this ten year old has no idea these things breathe searing light. At this point, they're kind of just going with things. Nothing here makes sense. It's a strange dream.

They were walking into the library to retrieve more books when they see the fort set up in their absence. They didn't intend to disturb whoever's inside, but they need to return this tome over there and they got a little too close - close enough to suddenly be accosted by... dog skulls? In a way, they are good guard dogs.

They stand there while being sniffed with the expression of someone who is being very cautioned by the Electrike bite on one hand, palms up, the book having been dropped with a wince. At the shout they jerk and look at the skeleton? It's rude to stare, and they avert their eyes.

It's rude to not answer people too, and they fold the non-bitten hand over the bitten one in front of them.

"May I pet them?"

They don't know what to say to fort, or treasure, or moat, because he sure does have those things. But dogs are for petting - if they like being pet.

[trombones]

Oh, cool! He's never seen a monster like that before. Sans blinks up at them. Chara had hidden the bite before he noticed it, but the skeleton was pretty astute for his age. He'd ask later.

"Yeah! They like people."

He nods eagerly. Whatever Chara decides to do, Sans watches them for a moment. The wheels in his skull are turning. He's grinning.

"You're a cool monster! Why do you have all your fur on your head?"

Sans was born in the capital, so he had met a variety of monsters already. Most of the furrier monsters he met usually had it all over, though. Like Mr. Dreemur! He was really furry. And soft too.

"Can I touch it?"

[itstheend]

Permission granted, Chara reaches out towards one of the dog skulls with the uninjured hand, slipping the other into a pocket. It's bad form, but showing injury is worse form. Weakness only ever is pounced on, so the lesser evil it is.

"I have it because I look human," they tell him politely, on the brink of matter-of-factly, petting carefully. It very much doesn't feel like petting a live animal at all, but they think the skull is enjoying it, so they're probably doing it correctly. They're just switching to the other so it doesn't feel left out when the small skeleton asks the second question and the petting hand stills before continuing.

They want the answer to be no. Very, very much. Asking to touch someone's hair is weirder than handshakes, so there might be room to decline (then again, they petted a talking cat not too long ago, so they aren't really one to talk either, are they?) But they know the tall skeleton is looking for this one and is probably his parent, and so they have to be very careful here.

"Yes," they say shortly, chewing their tongue, and they stay their gaze on the dog skull, keeping the small skeleton in their peripheral vision. "My apologies for not mentioning it sooner, but are you aware there is a tall skeleton looking for you?"

[trombones]

"... Oh."

Sans blinks up at them. Clearly unbothered, but not even more curious. The Blasters are having the time of their lives right now, panting happily and leaning into Chara's petting.

Sans gets up and waddles over to them. He then reaches up to touch their hair, fascinated but somewhat ginger. Dad always told him to be careful of touching monster's fur, as they can get caught easily in a skeleton's hand bones. Hair would be even more annoying, but he still thinks it's fur.

"Humans have fur on their heads?" He asks, looking up at Chara with a wide-eyed curiosity. As for Chara's next question, Sans only tilts his head.

[itstheend]

Chara's fingers close on the bone of the blaster, fingernails digging in tightly as their hair is touched. Their eyes are shut - they're fully expecting and picturing a tug or yank, breathing halted. It's gentle, but it can't be over soon enough.

Sorry, dog-skull.

Their breathing is quick and shallow and they're smiling when Sans asks the question. It takes some unknown time - they can't tell how long but longer than is usual - to realise he spoke, and process it, and thank god it's something with an easy, thoughtless answer.

"Yes," they say, and then correct themself several seconds later. "Most of them do." Allowance has to be made for the bald. "But they call it 'hair'."