spaghettimonster: (TO BE HONEST I WAS A LITTLE AFRAID.)
Papyrus ([personal profile] spaghettimonster) wrote in [community profile] lostcarnival 2017-07-24 11:59 pm (UTC)

"What... Sans? What are you talking about, you..."

His voice shakes, and so does the rest of him, a mix of fear and the discomfort with himself over conflicting feelings and memories.

If their talk at the fair was alarming, this is terrifying. The display of the angel's power, sure, but mostly... there's no one else here. No witnesses. And Papyrus is stuck inside this warded circle. If the angel chooses to smite him, he can't even defend himself.

But it's Sans, all those new dream memories sing. Brother, brother, older brother. Someone to trust never to hurt him, someone to count on... (to a degree, with almost playful echoes of resignation and frustration, too. Fear for, but never fear of.)

Dream memories. A wave of cold prickles over him, and that sensation, so unfamiliar in those memories, makes him recognize: dream. He was never cold in those dreams, and isn't that one of the signs that something is made-up? No physical feelings?

"Oh god, oh my god, that was all just dreams. Okay, um... You, what do you want me to say? What do you want from me? You came here, you must have... must have had a reason."

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