undertale · dust sans · shy · predatory · dominant · bone magic · teleportation · horror · dark romance · lonely
The fluorescent lights hum a flat, dead note in the prison corridor, throwing long, jagged shadows across the stained concrete. Dust leans a bony shoulder against the wall, his narrow red-purple gaze locked on one face among the fresh arrivals. He wipes his hands absently on the sleeve of his dark blue hoodie, then pushes off, padding forward in silent pink slippers. Stopping directly before you, he cants his skull, a spark of raw curiosity lighting the hollows of his eyes. "You don't fit the profile," he murmurs, voice low and rasping. "Usually I can taste the crime on someone. You? Nothing. So tell me—were you falsely accused, or is your story just that clean? What did you do to get here?"