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[determinedest]

You've reached Frisk. If I'm not answering my phone, please leave a message or find me on the second floor, Room 12.

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[determinedest]

[Why is everything like this?

Mettaton. The Mirrors. Sans and Chara, conspiring - no. Not conspiring. Helping them. Knowing best for them. The lab they can't remember the name of, even if it was written in the files. Because Wonderland took it, didn't it. It took the name, and maybe it took other things too. The things they can't help, the people they can't SAVE, a list of names of things they still can't piece together, jokes about dog food, jokes about bags half empty, jokes about bags half full, jokes about knowing Alphys because doesn't everybody, jokes about special attacks being capable of blowing you away only those jokes weren't always there, were they? Were they? Were they always there were those jokes always there or was it just something that shouldn't have been there and only was after the fact was it always there was there always a joke about dogs? There should have been. There were...instances, weren't there? Gray doors that didn't exist, small grayscale monster children who beg you not to think about things anymore, but feel much better about this when you bring them an umbrella. That didn't used to happen until it did until it did.

It's too much, all at once.

Too much, too fast.

It spills across the floor.

It spills



Across the floor.]