Fixing up the Past // Glitchtale Greyster

First Impressions

Rave hummed as he bustled around his house, cheerfully buttoning his collared shirt. He fit a tie around his neck as if it was muscle memory and carefully slipped into a shawl, making his way to the bathroom.

He slicked his hair back with one hand and pulled his phone out of his pocket with the other. He talked quickly after dialing the number, whose receiver answered almost instantly.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming to pick you up, Rutrow. Traffic's particularly sluggish at the moment." Damian scoffed his words as Rave sighed in annoyance. "I want to get there early if possible. If it's Jessica who's leading the freak show, they're in for a hell of a ride."

Damian seemed to laugh a bit at the other end. "Really? Did you make some tasteful last minute plans?" "Not exactly a plan, but I'll say to just make fun of her to showcase her possessive master, alright?"

"You think he's gonna hurt us? Think we can rile him up enough?" "We can try. Like I said, if she's in charge, we'll have the high ground. If she's not, we're gonna get creative."

"Creative? Creative how?" "I mean, like, hitmen or something. Why not, at this point? If we get caught we can just say it was the overexcited crowd."

Rave could tell Damian reeled back at that. "Hold it there. Hitmen? Rutrow. This is a simple, professional business rivalry." "Simple? Do you classify the matter with monsters as simple?" "You're twisting my words. The rivalry is simple. What the rivalry is built on is not. Let's keep it that way."

Rave sighed in annoyance as a silence went over them. He hung up the phone with a roll of his eyes and put it beside the sink, shifting his attention to slicking his hair back.

Upon finishing, he coughed into the sink and cleared his throat. The black substance he'd coughed up seemed to writhe just a little bit before being washed down the drain.

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"Come back here this instant, Chara! You're not leaving this room until you pick up your clothes!" Toriel yelled in the hall as everyone bustled around the house.

"Where the hell is my hairbrush-" "There's ketchup stains on your suit, Sans-?!" "Mooooooom! MOOOOOOOM! How does the freaking tie go?!" "Bro, I'll pick up my socks. You've just gotta chill."

"Is everyone ready to head out the door?!" Jessica yelled as she made her way down the stairs in her blue dress. "No!" Voices replied in unison. Jessica slapped her forehead. "Jesus Christ."

"Jess! Sans wants to know if wearing slippers is acceptable!" Gaster called from upstairs. "Mother of god. Does he have any other shoes?" "Uhm... He has sneakers." "Anything but the slippers, okay?"

A silence followed her words as Sans called down to her next. "Can I go barefoot, then?" "NO!" "Oi, oi, oi. I'm just kiddin', J." Sans clopped down the stairs in a suit with everything looking great, all except for his worn sneakers.

"They gonna judge us? That why you're so tense?" Jessica sighed and calmed herself. "Mhm. Plus, Rave's gonna be there with some other business guy. And with debates, there's a waiting room where we'll get some one-on-one time with them."

"You're gonna be okay with that?" Sans seemed to look extremely concerned. Jessica glanced around with confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Yo. J. He almost shot you." "Yeah, well. I actually shot you, but here we are." Sans couldn't help but snicker at that. "Okay. So if we're relating it to our situation, is he a good person at heart?"

"Of course he is." "Is he being controlled?" "Not sure. We'll find out tonight, I guess."

Jessica and Sans walked out of the house, people following close behind and having their own conversations. "Did he seem to regret trying to do that?" Jessica seemed to look to the ground in sadness. "Mmm. Then it's not our situation."