[The fact that there is something to feel- almost instantaneous, but note quite- has Frisk returning that squeeze; too tired for alarm, too tired to want to let go. Under the dirt and blood, their skin is waxen, belatedly lifting their head as they realize they aren't still standing in the street. Carpet, under their shoes. Four walls on all sides.
The immediate compulsion is to take off their shoes and stop getting said carpet dirty, and reflexively, they try to bend. A flinch puts a stop to that motion.
Okay. They will be, won't they? Like Sans says; not really okay yet, but they will be. They will be.]
He was trying to help.
[A blank repeat; like it hasn't quite registered yet. Part of them expects to look to their empty left and see him.
Part of them is aware their pockets are stuffed full of dust.]
no subject
The immediate compulsion is to take off their shoes and stop getting said carpet dirty, and reflexively, they try to bend. A flinch puts a stop to that motion.
Okay. They will be, won't they? Like Sans says; not really okay yet, but they will be. They will be.]
He was trying to help.
[A blank repeat; like it hasn't quite registered yet. Part of them expects to look to their empty left and see him.
Part of them is aware their pockets are stuffed full of dust.]