[Whenever Sans is late, which is often, he makes sure to hit that special sweet spot that's just approaching fashionable, but falling short enough that he still keeps up his appearances (and reality, let's be real) of a guy who happens to enjoy taking his time.]
[He's not quite as dressed up as Steven. Actually, he's not dressed up at all. But he understands atmosphere enough that, when he enters the cafe, he saunters with enough sway and off-beat confidence that there's little to no question as to whether or not Sans is in the right place, hoodie, slippers, and all. Over the years he's become a master of the art of social interaction: act like you belong, and everyone will assume you belong regardless of how you look. Fake it until you make it. All that jazz.]
[Sans makes his way to the table and slides into the seat across from Steven, leaning his elbows against the edge like the cool cat he totally isn't.]
no subject
[Whenever Sans is late, which is often, he makes sure to hit that special sweet spot that's just approaching fashionable, but falling short enough that he still keeps up his appearances (and reality, let's be real) of a guy who happens to enjoy taking his time.]
[He's not quite as dressed up as Steven. Actually, he's not dressed up at all. But he understands atmosphere enough that, when he enters the cafe, he saunters with enough sway and off-beat confidence that there's little to no question as to whether or not Sans is in the right place, hoodie, slippers, and all. Over the years he's become a master of the art of social interaction: act like you belong, and everyone will assume you belong regardless of how you look. Fake it until you make it. All that jazz.]
[Sans makes his way to the table and slides into the seat across from Steven, leaning his elbows against the edge like the cool cat he totally isn't.]
'sup.