[Even with the metal wing, flapping has no chance of picking them up - far too much weight. Papyrus shifts his weight to try to keep them balanced, adjusting for the strain he's feeling from Sans as if it's his own strain. But he flinches again at the memory of Undyne... dying, like this? Are they dying?]
Wha... We're not even, super determined about anything right now?? [His voice is a little higher strung than usual, surely a forgivable lapse in cool demeanor. The foot that went tangible isn't quite all the way tangible, again - it hit the bed frame as he shifted, but made more of a soft flump against the blanket-covered wood than a crack of metal, as from his other foot. It's not just where they're touching (is this because they were touching?), it's spreading.
...And it doesn't even feel terrible, which might be the worst thing. Strange, alarming, but he's still happy from being near Sans. Wanting to relax and take a load off.]
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Wha... We're not even, super determined about anything right now?? [His voice is a little higher strung than usual, surely a forgivable lapse in cool demeanor. The foot that went tangible isn't quite all the way tangible, again - it hit the bed frame as he shifted, but made more of a soft flump against the blanket-covered wood than a crack of metal, as from his other foot. It's not just where they're touching (is this because they were touching?), it's spreading.
...And it doesn't even feel terrible, which might be the worst thing. Strange, alarming, but he's still happy from being near Sans. Wanting to relax and take a load off.]