"Not lukewarm or cold garbage either, I hope," Sistina says, ruffling herself and resting her head against her chest. "Good. Okay, that's done. You're okay."

Papyrus' posture relaxes in sync with Sistina's, and he smiles at Sans, finally really feeling it. His brother is back, and he's okay.

"That's fine! Now we can match in another way," he says, and taps at one of the patches of crystals on his arm. "Though, I'm sorry to say, my rocks are prettier. Even when they... look like acne."

If only they didn't insist on growing in his soul color.

"Maybe you can get some cool designs painted on it!"