[... At least she knows for certain that the dreams really are memories now, looking at where she'd had stitches on her arm and remembering the troll that had messed up her arm pretty badly while she protected someone with a braid almost as long as their body. The stitches are out by now, but the light scarring remains and she rubs the bandaged area gently before getting dressed to go.
After first stopping by the profiles to add a little something special to Mettaton's likes with a marker (her own name), she's actually gonna go exploring herself this time since the second floor hadn't been of much interest to her at first...
... and this is how she ends up in the music room for most of the day, a little joyful to find a lyre in the more unusual instrument section and humming to herself as she picks out a few songs she remembers. There'll be time she's singing, not all too well but with obvious great importance to the glory-based words, but she's mostly content to just sit there and play whatever crosses her mind without lyrics.
It's like, oddly serene for her. Weird. At least she's not mixing chemicals in the new laundry room she's staying away from for the next ten years?
Evening finds her in the art room though, where she's pretty much hand painting streaks of sunset colors with one hand and the other is in charge of the sunrise. Her jacket's off and out of the way, because she doesn't want to get color on it, but the rest of her is pretty much stained.]
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After first stopping by the profiles to add a little something special to Mettaton's likes with a marker (her own name), she's actually gonna go exploring herself this time since the second floor hadn't been of much interest to her at first...
... and this is how she ends up in the music room for most of the day, a little joyful to find a lyre in the more unusual instrument section and humming to herself as she picks out a few songs she remembers. There'll be time she's singing, not all too well but with obvious great importance to the glory-based words, but she's mostly content to just sit there and play whatever crosses her mind without lyrics.
It's like, oddly serene for her. Weird. At least she's not mixing chemicals in the new laundry room she's staying away from for the next ten years?
Evening finds her in the art room though, where she's pretty much hand painting streaks of sunset colors with one hand and the other is in charge of the sunrise. Her jacket's off and out of the way, because she doesn't want to get color on it, but the rest of her is pretty much stained.]