What makes Sans happy?
“lots. keeping my bro happy, having my daughter with me, providing for and protecting them… spending time in the basement with what i have left of my wife.”
His smile wavers, the yellow magic in his shattered socket sparking unstably. One of his hands twitches, seemingly unconsciously.
“…it’d be a lie to say that the dirty work doesn’t make me happy too. there’s something very… cathartic, about the minutia of it, of keeping a monster alive long enough to get every possible bit of meat from them. kinda reminds me of when i used to work at the lab… dismantling old machines, building them better. except there’s no rebuilding involved here. just the… heh heh… bare bones.”