Text || pet the enemy

[save_theworld]

Hello. I'm Frisk.

The Frisk that's lived here for a long time, not the other Frisks.

I have a question for you. Me and my roommate do our own cooking but we don't really know how to cook much. We're getting bored of soup and stir fry. Another friend said he'd help me learn to cook more, but he doesn't know a lot of recipes.

Also all the food here is weird.

[Sorry gods but really- what's with the orchard, my dudes?]

If you have any nice recipes you could share I'd really like that. Thanks.

Frisk.

The one that's lived here a while.

Comments

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[skelebro]

i sincerely doubt that, kid.

[Not so surprisin' they think that, honestly.

Kid don't seem to like thinkin' much of themself at all. And, hey. Maybe some part of him is in raucous agreement, or it would be, if he did anything "raucous" at all.

But he's tryin' to be better than that now.]

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[save_theworld]

It's true.

[They'd tell him to see for himself, but- then he'd actually see for himself. Maybe it's a little selfish, not wanting him to find out firsthand.

But maybe they're a little selfish.]

The you I met seemed happy.

text 1/2

[skelebro]

course he did. we sans-es are always happy.

text

[skelebro]

but sorry, kiddo. i still don't buy it.

[save_theworld]

I mean it. He was happy.

[Because that is clearly the part that must be bought, in this conversation.]

[skelebro]

[He lets that one lie there. The kid's more determined than he is, he's real damn sure of that one, and he ain't gonna fight a losing battle. This time, anyway. He's met his quota of losing battles.]

alright, alright.
if you say so.