A collection of inane nonsense (ranging from Error being reincarnated as Palette to Dust finding a new love for the color pink) circling around the many AUs and Multiverses of the Undertale world. Some stories will be connected; Others will be rando...
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(Warning: This chapter contains mild swearing.)
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The Star Sanses' meeting room was bustling with sound; Unintelligible shouts and demands emanated from the numerous, near-identical skeletons that sat around the circular table resting in the center of the gold and cream-colored space.
Their verbal battle continued for some time until a red/black-clad, sharp-toothed Sans rose, snarling minor obscenities, and banged his fists on the extensive wooden furnishing.
Which promptly silenced the room.
"For fucks sake! This fuckin' nonsense an' talkin' over each other ain't gettin' us anywhere. We need a coherent plan if we're ever goin' to do somethin' about that destroyer an' his damn destructive tendencies." He growled. All the while, his blazing red eyelights swept over the others with a seething glare.
Skeleton after skeleton flinched back at his heated rage. However, their fear got disregarded as Red continued, throwing his hands flat against the surface, creating a loud thud and demanding, "Now, does anyone have an actual idea, or are you bitches just here to complain?"
Ink perked up from his place at the decided "head" of the round table, where he had spent a majority of the noisy meeting doodling and ignoring/improperly answering any questions thrown his way. His expressive eyelights quickly morphed into a yellow sun and orange triangle, and an excited grin crept up his face.
Finally, it was his time to shine; tell the world his inventive plans that no one (especially not Dream) approved. Despite the sheer genius behind them.
As if sensing Ink's "brilliance," the yellow-clad skeleton to his right sent a narrow-eyed, disapproving look his way. One telling him to keep his mouth shut and that, no, whatever his plan might be, it did not deserve an utterance.
Though, like usual, the Guardian of AUs ignored him.
"Oh, oh! I have an idea!" He shouted. Eagerly standing, the artist struck a typical heroic pose - placing a hand on his hip while the other rose, shaped like a fist - and confidently proclaimed, "I'm going to seduce him with my epic dancing skills!"
