[It's a lot to hear, and after an already long day. He feels a brief triumph of recognition, as Toriel and Alphys have renewed context to that photo he's studied so many hours, but mostly... it's a lot.
Alarming, when Sans's voice regains its tone just in time for him to start crying and laying bare some mix of awful explanations and confessions. It's as if the brothers share a pool of reticence to draw on, and the more Papyrus holds himself stiff and quiet and secretive, the more his brother openly breaks down. Compared to how much Sans usually holds close to his chest... well, it's a little horrifying to watch.
So while Papyrus stays, sitting and listening intently, he averts his gaze to the translucence between them and the colorful dark outside the base. Something about the sight and Sans's words conjure an echo of his brother's voice, saying why even try, though Papyrus can't place the context. Sometime in that lost childhood, maybe...? There's been so many years of Sans being somewhat unhelpful but supportive, and the sourceless words aren't like that. Even now, with Sans crying so uncomfortably openly, he's admitting to having kept secrets, the better to not discourage anybody else. Has that ever changed...?]
...Sans. [His voice is rough and uncertain, speaking up after a long enough pause that he thinks his brother has run out of things to confess.] I... I didn't know you were struggling so much, with this. With... worrying about the future. And if there will ever be one...
[...It's a familiar worry, even if it hasn't frozen him into inaction the way it has Sans. Maybe because it's just deja vu and advice from a friend, for him, instead of an impersonal threat shutting things down. But somehow it's familiar to him not to expect anything in his future to change meaningfully, like the present is the only thing that's really real. Somehow most of what Sans is saying... doesn't surprise him, or bewilder him, and maybe he'll be surprised by that later. Right now he shakes his head, glancing at Sans and then the shadows outside again.]
How... how long have you know about all this? Years ago, not... not counting loops. [Was Sans aware of this stuff back when the scientists were around, when Papyrus was just a little skeleton?]
long tags sow seeds for even longer tags
Alarming, when Sans's voice regains its tone just in time for him to start crying and laying bare some mix of awful explanations and confessions. It's as if the brothers share a pool of reticence to draw on, and the more Papyrus holds himself stiff and quiet and secretive, the more his brother openly breaks down. Compared to how much Sans usually holds close to his chest... well, it's a little horrifying to watch.
So while Papyrus stays, sitting and listening intently, he averts his gaze to the translucence between them and the colorful dark outside the base. Something about the sight and Sans's words conjure an echo of his brother's voice, saying why even try, though Papyrus can't place the context. Sometime in that lost childhood, maybe...? There's been so many years of Sans being somewhat unhelpful but supportive, and the sourceless words aren't like that. Even now, with Sans crying so uncomfortably openly, he's admitting to having kept secrets, the better to not discourage anybody else. Has that ever changed...?]
...Sans. [His voice is rough and uncertain, speaking up after a long enough pause that he thinks his brother has run out of things to confess.] I... I didn't know you were struggling so much, with this. With... worrying about the future. And if there will ever be one...
[...It's a familiar worry, even if it hasn't frozen him into inaction the way it has Sans. Maybe because it's just deja vu and advice from a friend, for him, instead of an impersonal threat shutting things down. But somehow it's familiar to him not to expect anything in his future to change meaningfully, like the present is the only thing that's really real. Somehow most of what Sans is saying... doesn't surprise him, or bewilder him, and maybe he'll be surprised by that later. Right now he shakes his head, glancing at Sans and then the shadows outside again.]
How... how long have you know about all this? Years ago, not... not counting loops. [Was Sans aware of this stuff back when the scientists were around, when Papyrus was just a little skeleton?]