[It's before dawn, early enough most of the surface world is quiet, if not sleeping - but that doesn't mean it's motionless. The insomniacs of the valley are awake, as are the various people who work at night. Garbage trucks are taking advantage of the relatively empty streets, and some days of the week Papyrus would be out there already - doing his best as the secondary person, getting out with each stop to guide containers onto the hydraulic lift. (He has a while to go before he'll have a driver's license at all, let a lone one for a vehicle of that size.)
Fortunately, tonight isn't one of his nights. He's in the hotel suite, lounging on his bed with phone and refurbished laptop in front of him, cords trailing behind them and himself into a recently bought surge protector. When Sans shoots up with the sound of cracking bone, Papyrus lurches to check on him - only to get tethered by the cord, and curse himself.]
Hold on, hold on... [He scrabbles with a hand, yanks the cable out with a sharp spike that might mean it's damaged - but that's a concern for later.]
Sans, are you ok--oh my god??
[He climbs off the bed, reaching for the light on the nightstand, but the splashes of glowing color are clear enough signs of injury. It takes him a few seconds to realize that the fluttering isn't just from the usual (usual!) set of wings, to get around to where he can see Sans's head and try to help him sit up.]
bringing the body horror in horror
Fortunately, tonight isn't one of his nights. He's in the hotel suite, lounging on his bed with phone and refurbished laptop in front of him, cords trailing behind them and himself into a recently bought surge protector. When Sans shoots up with the sound of cracking bone, Papyrus lurches to check on him - only to get tethered by the cord, and curse himself.]
Hold on, hold on... [He scrabbles with a hand, yanks the cable out with a sharp spike that might mean it's damaged - but that's a concern for later.]
Sans, are you ok--oh my god??
[He climbs off the bed, reaching for the light on the nightstand, but the splashes of glowing color are clear enough signs of injury. It takes him a few seconds to realize that the fluttering isn't just from the usual (usual!) set of wings, to get around to where he can see Sans's head and try to help him sit up.]