Right. [Papyrus pulls the door open, backing into the room to let Sans follow. The bloodied pajamas are discarded on the floor, uncharacteristically unfolded, a few feet from the sink. There's a damp, somewhat stained towel beside them, and another wrapped thoroughly around his waist. And the injuries...
The mask covering his lack of face is likely still the worst, ringed in the stitches affixing it to his face, with some unseen underneath even attaching some muscles to it. But his sides have their share of stitches, long incisions around his sides - one on one side, two on the other - where skin and muscles sag and sink inward in a way that betrays the missing ribs. It's with unhappy, tense body language that he gestures vaguely at one, still not quite looking at Sans's face.]
Only... only as tight as needed, thank you. Maybe, if they have room, to grow back...? [That's his hope for his face, after all. Skin... grows back, if with scars, right? It's harder for ribs, and surely harder still without magic to ease it along... but maybe. The key right now is just making sure he doesn't die of leaking blood.]
This skeleton has a bad bones to thread ratio these days
The mask covering his lack of face is likely still the worst, ringed in the stitches affixing it to his face, with some unseen underneath even attaching some muscles to it. But his sides have their share of stitches, long incisions around his sides - one on one side, two on the other - where skin and muscles sag and sink inward in a way that betrays the missing ribs. It's with unhappy, tense body language that he gestures vaguely at one, still not quite looking at Sans's face.]
Only... only as tight as needed, thank you. Maybe, if they have room, to grow back...? [That's his hope for his face, after all. Skin... grows back, if with scars, right? It's harder for ribs, and surely harder still without magic to ease it along... but maybe. The key right now is just making sure he doesn't die of leaking blood.]