[With the click of disconnection, Sans can't help feeling like he'd made a mistake. He's capable of those. Hell, that's pretty much all he's capable of.
Alone, without Mettaton to pick at and mull over, all that's left is the reality of what he was trying to tell him. This human. One that had killed before. One that had a few more pieces of the jigsaw puzzle he would need to snuff out all of them, should he or anyone else want to.
... Maybe he should've tried a little harder to keep him on the line.]
Ah, hell.
[Sans murmurs, to no one, rubbing the space between his eye sockets. He should make this right somehow. That is, if he could ever manage to work up the energy.
These days (who's he kidding, all days), that's a pretty big 'if'.]
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futurology | IC Inbox
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Alone, without Mettaton to pick at and mull over, all that's left is the reality of what he was trying to tell him. This human. One that had killed before. One that had a few more pieces of the jigsaw puzzle he would need to snuff out all of them, should he or anyone else want to.
... Maybe he should've tried a little harder to keep him on the line.]
Ah, hell.
[Sans murmurs, to no one, rubbing the space between his eye sockets. He should make this right somehow. That is, if he could ever manage to work up the energy.
These days (who's he kidding, all days), that's a pretty big 'if'.]