[If he'd known it would take this little to bring out that unyielding edge...no. No, it did not take very little at all, did it. It was the sum of every part, the pieces of himself that were scattered and that she still clings to, the residuum of his existence that still sticks like offal to the roof of the world. Perhaps it is something one cannot easily shake.
It is not as though Sans ever succeeded, now, did he.
Some aspect of him twitches, rippling like a pebble cast in water, and the hands rearrange themselves - hands, endlessly carding through the air, through manifold possibilities, seeing each outcome laid out before him and snapping onward to the next.]
I AM CODE, DOCTOR. I AM DISCARDED, DISUSED, AND DISASSEMBLED. I AM CAPABLE OF ASSUMING FORM HERE BECAUSE I ENDURE IN YOUR MIND. YOUR MIND, AND THE MIND OF YOUR COLLEAGUE.
[One of those hands, those too-pale and too-bleached hands with the holes in the palms with too many bony-fingered fellows, points at her, a wordless, cold indictment.]
WHAT IS IT ABOUT ME THAT EVERYONE IN THIS POCKET WORLD FINDS SO GODDAMNED INTERESTING?
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It is not as though Sans ever succeeded, now, did he.
Some aspect of him twitches, rippling like a pebble cast in water, and the hands rearrange themselves - hands, endlessly carding through the air, through manifold possibilities, seeing each outcome laid out before him and snapping onward to the next.]
I AM CODE, DOCTOR. I AM DISCARDED, DISUSED, AND DISASSEMBLED. I AM CAPABLE OF ASSUMING FORM HERE BECAUSE I ENDURE IN YOUR MIND. YOUR MIND, AND THE MIND OF YOUR COLLEAGUE.
[One of those hands, those too-pale and too-bleached hands with the holes in the palms with too many bony-fingered fellows, points at her, a wordless, cold indictment.]
WHAT IS IT ABOUT ME THAT EVERYONE IN THIS POCKET WORLD FINDS SO GODDAMNED INTERESTING?