Hello, Fanfictionites. So, I wrote a thing. I'm posting it on impulse. Was gonna try to start writing full stories before I began posting the chapters, but as it so happens, I can't seem to finish a longer story like this at all that way. So I'm trying this again, I guess. I'll try not to leave you with any long waits between chapters. No promises, but I figure maybe if there's people waiting for new chapters, it'll help me actually finish the thing...?
This is an idea that's been in my mind for a while now, and I have a rather specific idea in mind for the cover image. I'll see what I can put together soon if I can. If the picture is up by the time you read this, great! Look at it and enjoy it, or something. Anyway, I'll shut up. Presenting: The Switchuation, chapter one. I hope it's not terrible and that you have fun reading~
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Chapter One: Meet Sans…. And also Sans
He couldn't breathe.
It was ridiculous. Signals had no effect on the air. They took up no space, removed no amount oxygen. Signals were just that: signals. This the monster told himself as he drove. The endless collection of antennas didn't cease to catch his eye socket. Radios played all around him loud enough to hear, each on a different station, adding to his discomfort. A glance to his right made him more aware of the driver next to him. She spoke on the phone, spewing words he didn't detect nor care about. Phone signals. Radio signals. Secret signals. Subliminal signals. Codes. He was extremely conscious of these things that both existed and did not. He felt like he was drowning in them.
The traffic light turned green before he could finish his next thought.
The sun was going down, or rather, the planet was rotating in such a way to create that illusion. There was a word that had begun to frequent his mind: illusion. It wasn't one he was accustomed to using. The South was famous for its people's way of talking, but certainly not for any form of elegant speech. He swore, everyone else in the world believed people like him had no grasp of the English language. Yes, he knew the word "illusion" and he knew it well. It was simply not a word he often tended to say. Lately however, he'd been finding it more and more appropriate.
Because everything was an illusion.
Sans put the pedal as close to the floor as he could. He didn't concern himself much with speed limits. He had things to do. His to-do list wasn't overly full, but there were chores that required his attention before the day was through. There was dinner to be cooked, a house to be cleaned, and a detailed report to write. There was a poltergeist in the basement, a vampire in the attic, and an irritating neighbor to deal with. The kitchen faucet needed fixing; it believed it was a sprinkler. After everything else, he needed to sit down and plan out the following day, as well as one in his position could. There was so little left to do today that he considered the idea of finding himself with a bit of free time.
The notion distracted him from his previous musings. Anxiety still lurked within him, though the feeling wasn't enough to trouble the skeleton. Unlike the word "illusion", he was rather accustomed to the uneasy feeling in his chest. He couldn't remember a time in his life when it wasn't around to some extent. Sometimes people told him he really needed to relax.
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Sometimes people told him he should learn how to take things seriously. Such words were spoken to him by his brother, just before Papyrus had departed. Sans had only chuckled in response. Like that was gonna happen!
With Papyrus off running errands, he smiled to himself. He teleported onto the kitchen counter, dirtying the surface with his pink slippers. Opening the cabinet, he reached as far as he could past the dishes, feeling around for his forbidden snack. He retrieved the hidden candy bar with a sigh of annoyance at his brother's new health food obsession. The area went dark for a moment and he was suddenly within the pantry. The tiny room was not illuminated, though such a thing was unnecessary. He knew exactly where to find the box of sugary cereal.
He teleported back to the couch and dropped the food unceremoniously onto the cushions. He then looked to the flower pot sitting on the windowsill several feet away. He teleported over to the glass container and paused. There was something about yellow flowers that unnerved him, though he must have forgotten what exactly caused that feeling. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Sans grasped the collection of stems and carefully lifted them and the dirt they rested in. He picked up the handheld device beneath them, replaced the plants, and teleported back to the couch.
He dusted the dirt off the gaming system, not bothering to pay attention to where it ended up. It wouldn't be long before he ran out of hiding places in his room. Why wouldn't Papyrus understand that he liked his room being a mess, that it was far easier for him to locate things that way, and that it was rude to invade his privacy like that? He laid on the couch, one leg resting on the back of it. With one hand holding the 3DS, he used the other as well as his teeth to open the candy. He began this gaming session whilst he spat out wrapper and took a bite of the junk food.