thisavrou | [video] Feb 17th

[It's either very late at night or very early in the morning. Papyrus grins at anyone watching as he usually does, but this time around, something's off. His usual cheer seems forced, and there's a subtle, constant background rattle and the screen never quite seems to stay still.]

Hello again, everyone! This is the great Papyrus speaking, and... and I...

...

[For a moment, he seems at a loss for words. Then he rallies again and holds up his other hand. He has Sans's jacket in a tight grip, and clinging to the inside is an odd, distinctive sort of dust.]

I seem to have lost track of my brother!! That lazybones... now he's managed to slack off on naps! Is there no end to this?

So! If anyone has any idea where he is, please let me know! He probably just... fell asleep somewhere weird! There seems to be a lot of that going around lately.

[He starts to switch off the feed, then hesitates.]

Also, could someone bring some cleaning supplies to Sans's room? There's so much dust in here... I've been trying to get it all up, but it's just... getting everywhere.

[For a moment, he looks distressed, then he pastes the smile back on.]

O-once again, this is the great Papyrus! Signing out!!

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"Papyrus, you can't tell me no one on board would try to hurt Sans." Rosethorn suspects Chara. She won't be surprised when the news of the next trial comes through, but she isn't going looking for them until she's finished with Papyrus. "I hope that his death won't last, because it does seem to be a more temporary thing here."

If Rosethorn were someone, anyone, else, this is where she'd reach out, lay a hand on Papyrus' arm, wrap an arm around him, take his hand, something. But she isn't someone else. She just watches him with sympathy and concern as she continues steadily, "You can't find your brother, and there was a pile of dust in his place. That isn't the kind of prank someone who cares about you would play. We need to assume he's gone."

"But... he can't be gone." He finally looks back up at her, sadness filling in the cracks in his cheerful armor. He might complain and fuss, but he doesn't want Sans to be gone. Sans is the older of the two, the one who's always, always been there. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if anything really happened to him. "If he's gone, then whose messes am I going to clean up? Who am I going to carry home from the bar and strongly encourage to get back up in the morning?"

Rosethorn winces. She felt like she ought to do this, but she doesn't have the answers to any of those questions. The questions themselves tell her more negative things about Sans. Now is hardly the time to indulge in criticism, though. It doesn't matter what Sans was like, not with him gone literally to dust. What matters is how his brother felt about him.

"You keep getting up in the morning, and eventually something will make you smile again," Rosethorn hasn't lost family, at least not through death. Finally giving up on her father, her brothers, and the illusion of love that she'd let them build up around her? That was an entirely different sort of loss. It hurt, of course, but it was a loss that she chose because it was what she needed. She's had friends, research partners, torn away from her without warning, but never anyone as close as a sibling. Those feelings, and the things Lark has told her over the years about her children's deaths, are the only basis she's going off of.

Here, at least, there's the possibility he'll return, but it isn't one she wants Papyrus to dwell on unless they have some reason to believe it's likely. Sans doesn't even have a body anymore, nothing to be revived.

She's silent for a moment, close enough to Papyrus that he can reach out if he needs to. Rosethorn's own hands twitch briefly toward him, then fall back to her sides. "Papyrus, humans have a lot of different traditions for honoring our dead, remembering them and saying goodbye. Do monsters have any? If you'd like to do something for Sans, I'll help you."

That... wasn't bad advice. Papyrus had never been the sort to spend more time in bed than he absolutely had to, and getting out there and making himself stay active, stay busy, occupy his time no matter what, sounded like the best advice. He felt lost, a ship without a rudder, and getting things back under control seemed like the best way to make it all start to make sense.

He glances at her hand as they twitch toward him and reaches out, then hesitates.

"Oh, are you... were you offering me a hug of comfort?" It's hard to tell sometimes, with humans. Not that he didn't trust Rosethorn, but it seemed better to ask than assume.

Not everyone wanted to be hugged by a skeleton, after all.

Rosethorn freezes at the question. She was, and yet she wasn't. It just isn't in her to offer that lightly, not to anyone. Her family, perhaps, Lark and the children, get a little more by way of affection from Rosethorn, but even they know just how many boundaries she draws around herself. Lark gently ignores many of them, immune.

Papyrus is hard to resist on any day. Today, she simply can't. Finally she nods and answers, "If you want one."

If Papyrus asks her for a hug, she'll wrap her arms around him right away. Rosethorn's hugs, on the rare occasions she gives them, are good ones. Comforting, sincere, and as long as the person she cares about needs them to be.

[video] Feb 17th

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