Sans (
ribticklers) wrote2021-05-30 02:49 am
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username: s[Distant trombone noises.] art credit code credit
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stuffs some background headcanon in here it's fine
the magic of threads in journals instead of comms
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[Sans could never stop it. Flowey had gotten better and better at hiding, but even in the timelines where the
kidanomaly had taken over, Sans had suspicions about that flower that avoided him. The anomaly was about as subtle as a brick to the face to Sans's well-tuned observational skills. But that just meant Sans could watch the train come barreling toward everybody. He couldn't get out of the way. He couldn't stop the train.]no subject
[The curiosity isn't as strong as it would have been, before. Suspicion and fear are stronger, his thoughts continuing to orbit a fearful conclusion one half of him had jumped to, earlier this week, that he can't find it in himself to refute. But maybe it's not connected, maybe there was some mysterious ancient artifact that Flowey unearthed, traveling around in the dirt like that. Maybe something the human could steal. Something that might turn up, and let them try to fix all this mess. That's a better thought, isn't it?]
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[Sans hesitates. Well. He's already talking. Might as well keep going.]
Undyne--she had it. Not as much as the anomaly, but more than I thought a monster could have. When the anomaly got to her--
[More hesitation. He skips the details.] She died. And came back to fight the human again.
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Came... Came back? Again? Undyne did? [Back from dying, he knows Sans said. But back in time, he almost hears, after the last topic.] Th-That sounds like Undyne! Why fight just once, when she could push herself for a whole extra duel.
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[It hadn't been fair. Even with Undyne, the anomaly only had to win twice.]
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[That, he has occasionally imagined. What kinds of cool, complicated moves might have awed and frightened the human into surrendering? It's preferable to imagine weaving attacks together than the accumulating dust and the gaps in neighborhoods forming in its wake. He's occasionally regretted what he went with, the gamble on pushing the human to choose whether to attack someone so blatantly not attacking, or else accept his mercy... But if they were time traveling, then their choice whether to continue really was the deciding factor in it all, and no cool moves would have stopped them.]
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But there's something else Sans is sure of, too:] Well, nobody could'a offered 'em mercy like you did, either. Actually believing they could change, even with what they did.
[Nobody else is like Papyrus, as far as Sans is concerned. Papyrus really is great.]
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[The compressed memories sit heavy in his awareness, even as he continues to skirt around activating more of them. The human hadn't just killed, he's sure of it. It had played, performed on TV, befriended them? Tried things out, like a person choosing to try out everything... Or like something deep underground trying to see what made people tick, so as to push them just the right way. And that's familiar too, echoes of familiarity. It feels like he's been trying to please and steer some powerful person for a very long time.]
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[He remembers how Papyrus was when he was younger--much more insecure. And he's gotten a lot better with his self-esteem. But, now that Sans has been forced into Papyrus's head and memories multiple times, Papyrus still has more of that insecurity left than Sans realized. Sans is always going to be on Papyrus's side. That's a core part of what makes him Sans. And Papyrus's ability to believe in people, to be merciful, is exactly what makes him so cool.]
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...I won't argue with that! Not with words so profoundly correct. [Maybe a little over-emphatic, but he has years of compensating to not slip into Sans's habits. His brother can surely see through it enough to hear the gratitude. But his smile goes wry, as he again considers that worrying network post with all the pro-Ozpaka friendship threads.] That said... Maybe our downstairs not-friend is a little much, for me to win over. I'm in no hurry to try.
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[Hearing Papyrus say he's not about to go down and try to talk sense into Okpaza is a relief, even if he didn't actually really think Papyrus was going to. It's just nice to have the reassurance.]
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[An indignation he hopes to hold onto, with all relevant future run-ins. It doesn't seem like the kind of feeling that the entity would go strategically plucking from his skull and circuitry, even if it already showed itself capable of plucking Sans from his memories... Even numbed out, he's still tense and unhappy at the thought. Ugh.]
...The lights, in that room you left. [He says slowly, checking Sans for tension of his own.] They talked like... Just choosing to be ourselves, is a kind of resisting? Did you hear anything like that?
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[So yeah, sort of, if not in those words. Sans still sounds a bit embarrassed repeating this stuff back. It sounds too sappy coming out of his mouth. (As much as anything he says can be said to come out of his mouth and not somewhere just behind it, anyway.)]
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...Good. I'm going to... I'm choosing to believe that! And to keep thinking positively. As well as I can. [The sardonic aside is quieter but there, testing the water of deliberately being both of him - all of him - again.]
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Maybe light doesn't just exist to feed the dark.
[That's something else the fourth him said. And it's something to hang onto. Because Sans is going to keep going, regardless. Better to have a direction. If all he has to work with is a cosmic misstep, at least it's something.]
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No... of course not? Sunlight does feed me, but I'm hardly 'the dark', and it's not all for me anyway.
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Well shit, that's proof right there, yeah? Some of that light's gotta go to you. [There's some actual buoyancy to Sans, suddenly--probably almost out of nowhere from Papyrus's perspective, though Sans is still thinking about what happened in the power plant. Some of the melancholy has lifted.]
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Always happy to be proof of not-terrible things. [He says it with a typical (slightly forced) positivity, then reconsiders, and admits:] Usually. Not quite always. But now's one of those times, don't worry!
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[Sans is pretty sure Papyrus does it for his own sake most of the time, but there's a lot of times he does it for Sans, too, and that shouldn't be something Papyrus has to worry about.]
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Papyrus muses on these things a little longer than he needs to, the better to not immediately respond to Sans's reassurance with more than a tense side glance. But the relative quiet of internal fans whirring and, the electrical whine of the television and various signals around town coming back on, it all drags on a little too long. He shrugs his shoulders alone, in a slightly hunched way. Even a bit numb, it's a rough thing to talk about with his brother.]
It's... It's not just about what I want, there in the moment. Things go better when I keep it positive! [Whether that's finding some genuine positivity in him to act from, or putting up a positive front so as not to be (even more) offputting.] I don't... I wouldn't... want to make it harder. For anybody. [For Sans, already struggling.]
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I mean... Sometimes it's about what you want. [Most of the time, if Sans is the one deciding.]
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Maybe I'll stock up on tea! And install a sprinkler above one of the windows. So I gaze forlornly out the window into the rain, any time I need.
[He's mostly joking, but with a seed of considering it. Something theatrically sad, mostly a joke, could still be... a way to be sad, visibly, without it doing any real harm.]
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They've fallen into joking around again. It's such a well-worn habit it's become a ditch to fall into.]
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ends up just writing the tag
this is the opposite of the thing i requested! but thank you :')
the ultimate power of skeleton emotions
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