hadriel | video; what's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it

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video; what's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it

[Sans has something in his hands. It's a bolt of fabric that he runs between his metacarpals with a distant, unfocused precision, something to idly turn between his phalanges as he speaks. Might take a moment to realize that the backdrop to his video ain't the typical one. It's not his room he's sitting in, after all. He's reclining atop a racecar bed. The sheets are perfectly made, as though the owner were planning on returning at some point. On the bedside table, there's a small stack of belongings that clash rather astutely with the layout of the place. A snowglobe, a binder, an ECHOcomm, and at the very far right of the frame, a folded-up sweater vest.

He dropped in to visit some pals of his, you see. Only to find they ain't around anymore.]

For those of you who knew 'em, seems the docs've gone home. You know the ones. Newt and Hermann. [A pause.] Dr. Gottlieb.

[Being a pain in the coccyx suddenly gets to be less funny when there ain't anybody to yell at you about it, huh?]

Hope it's home they went, and not, uh...wherever it was before they got here. Yao know what I'm talkin' about.

[He folds up the cloth in his hands and stands up, grinning at the camera without a lick of despair. Maybe there's somethin' a bit tired to the whole facade, but who can say? He's always tired.]

I hate to tell ya, but it looks like my bro might'a been the guy to slack off for once. Funny, right? Takin' that hard-earned title from yours truly. Here I thought I was supposed to be the guy who nips off without a word.

[Those with sharp eyes might pick up that the cloth ain't just any old thing. It's Papyrus's sash delineating him as an official member of the City Guard - twice torn, twice mended, and now without an owner. Like hell Sans is cut out to wear a thing like this.]

'Pologies to the Guard. Looks like you're one member short. 'Fraid I can't help ya there either; Papyrus, he's got some big shoes to fill.

[He winks at the lens before reaching for the communicator and then, almost as an afterthought, adds:]

Someone ought'a take care of the lab the docs built. Lotta their stuff's still in there, too, and lyin' around my place. Figure it should go to the people who knew 'em best.

[Y'know, whoever that is. But you all know who you are, don't ya?

Yeah. He'd think so.

He cuts the feed.]

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[She could be wearin' a pink-and-purple polka-dotted hat with a paisley nightgown and he wouldn't notice for a good while. His thoughts are pretty much elsewhere, exclusively, with not much thought for any of the myriad anxieties Alphys might have regarding the subtlety of her approach.

There ain't any real risk of anyone stepping inside. No reason to talk about this kinda thing in hushed tones, in case Papyrus comes bustling by. No real reason at all.

But like Alphys, he can't help but wonder if it feels right.]

Hey, it happens, right?

[Can't he just - just scrape enough of himself together to be present, to be there. Smile. Crack a joke. Make it work.

Do your best.]

Nothing anyone can help, now.

H-Heh. Yeah.

[She just ends up... sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. It'd feel like an intrusion to be there with him. It's... it's Papyrus'. It's his brother. Not hers. She doesn't belong there.]

I hadn't, uhm... I hadn't gotten to s-see Newt or Hermann recently. I wish I'd talked to them a little more.

[Nobody belongs here, anymore. Call the phone and nobody picks up. Familiar tune, familiar song. Everyone's played it, and it's been played out. He don't invite her to join him, but he don't feel much like he has any right to be here, either.

He retrieves the stupidly twee sweater-vest from the bedside table, eyeing the skull pattern. Remembers the first time he saw it proper, and nearly laughed his silly face off.]

I showed 'em my SOUL once.

[No idea why he says that. Why she's gotta know or...why he's even telling her.

Maybe so that there's proof that they were here. That someone else can remember, just so he knows - it ain't just him.]

[Hah. Oh jeez. He's talking about stuff from before she showed up. Maybe that's why they were so close.]

Oh. That's... t-that must've been scary.

[They were great guys, sure. But they're still humans. And Sans, well... showing your SOUL is about the easiest way for it to get damaged, and it's not like he has the damage to spare.]

I didn't know you were that, uhm... c-close.

[Scary, yeah. That about covers it. It'd boiled down to a choice, and for the first time in recent memory - he'd taken the road less traveled by.

And look where that got him, huh?

This is why he has that policy, see.]

They showed up same time I did. I kinda, uh, lived with 'em for a little bit.

[That Sans was that close to any human after what he saw, after what happened... well, he's always been the stronger one than her, hasn't he? She couldn't even talk normally to a human for the first month. And he goes ahead and lives with two of 'em. Lord.

They must have been really special.]

You... w-were, uh, probably super close then, uhm. I'm sorry.

[How is she going to replace them? And Papyrus? She can't, she... how is she going to make this up to him?]

It was... I mean, uhm. T-They might come back. Or... something.

[He runs the vest between his phalanges, fabric slipping uselessly between them until at last it drips to the floor and lies there. The immaculate floor that Papyrus meticulously cleaned earlier...today, or the day before. Time sorta loses its meaning, for a guy like him. What the hell else is new?

She's trying her best. It ain't all on her to make things better. Nobody can make things better. Not for -

Not things like this.

His eyesockets droop shut, as though keeping 'em open has suddenly become an effort all on its own. In its own way - it kinda has.]

Yeah.

[She's trying. She's trying so hard to find a silver lining here, and that ain't anywhere near her specialty.

It feels like mustering the strength to haul himself outta bed on the very worst of days when he slits a socket open again to stare at her with a tired, hollow grin.]

'S okay, Alph. Papyrus - he's probably better off at home. He came from one of the good ones, remember?

[She has no real response, no idea what to say, so she defaults to a tiny laugh, fake and hollow. But it's all about appearances, right?]

H-Heh. Yeah. I remember, he t-told me... they all got to see the sky. They got out.

[It's so... foreign to her. That everything worked out, in the end. That everything they did was so impossibly... pointless, in the grand scheme of it all.]

... Do you ever thing we'll g-get there? I mean, I guess if we do, we... w-won't remember anything having gone wrong, anyway. It'll all just, uhm. Be okay.

[Do you think we'll get there?

Apparently, it's possible. Even for a guy like him. There's a photograph that says as much, but his face - and everyone else's - are scored out in red, and it's pretty plain what that little detail means. A fleeting illusion of happiness.

An illusion of an end. 'Cause there's never really an end.

Not in the Underground, anyway.]

I dunno.

[It ain't exactly a gleaming beacon of positivity, but - it's honest. And he could do with bein' a little more honest.]

I'm sorry, Alph.

I really don't.

[Somehow, she expects him to say what she wants to hear. Some little word of encouragement, a placating reminder that the world could be good if we imagine it to be. But he's honest, and real, and... somehow, it feels better than if he just lied.

Without expecting it, she laughs. Not long, or loud. But it's a laugh.]

Y-You know, that's... better, I think.

[She'd like to imagine it that way. That she could choose her way into something wonderful, that she could grow into a better version of herself. Not just be set back to a world someone else deems as their happy ending.

She'd like to imagine herself strong enough to do that.]

I guess we can... m-make our own way, or, something. But, uhm... I think if you're here, it w-won't be so bad.

[Make their own way? Maybe.

'S not as bad as it could be. That's the optimist outlook. Things suck, 'cause people disappear and people vanish into nothing and you never get to say goodbye, and all you can really do is miss that they were ever here.

Life'll knock you down more times than you can count. Feels like it's easier to just lay flat, instead of bothering to drag yourself upright again.

But he grins, raggedly, shoulders shaking, just for a moment, in a silent hum of amusement.]

We'll see it through together, yeah?

H-Heh. Yeah.

[That's... something. That she's not gonna be so alone. He's here. There's others, too, she just... needs to keep that in perspective.

Less others now, of course.]

We both have, uhm... other p-people we know here, too. I mean, I think you know more people than me. Almost every time I, uhm, t-talk to someone they say they know you.

[He knows more people. Just means he gets to feel it, every time one of 'em blips on off back into the unknown. Maybe they end up back home. Maybe they don't.

Don't matter, in any case. They disappear. Everyone disappears eventually. Leaves nothin' but dust in their wake.]

Hey, doesn't everybody?

[That's his little in-joke, see. Everybody knows Sans. Everyone knows him, but not a single person can say what's on his mind at any given time, other than naps and bad jokes.

Funny little character quirk. What a wacky, wild thing that is.

No cause for alarm if you paint it that way, see?]

I can introduce ya sometime.

[Everybody always knows Sans. That's how it was back home, too. The members of the Guard, local townspeople, just citizens who bought his hot dogs... even Asgore seemed to know him. But she gets that. Everybody knows the Royal Scientist exists, after all.

But what a shame if they knew how she really was.]

That'd... b-be nice. I mean, as long as you're okay with me, uhm, ruining your s-stellar reputation by, uh, your association with me.

[Since, y'know, she's always such an embarrassment, and meeting new people always makes that worse.]

Please. I work very hard to ensure my reputation's as objectively terrible as possible.

[Can't possibly make something worse when it's already shit to begin with, right? You can't ruin someone who's already ruined themself, it turns out.

That's the general hope, at least.]

H-Heh. Well that I could actually help with. Just by, you know. Existing, and, e-everything.

[They're the Fuckup Twins! In varying degrees of publicity.]

No bigger pair of mistakes on the face of the planet, us two.

[He'll drink to that. Figuratively, anyway. Literally, he ain't drinkin'. Not much in the mood for a thing like that, even now. Though on that note, pretty soon he's soberin' up, if only marginally. 'Bout as sober as a guy like him gets on short notice.]

But - seriously. Thanks.

For, y'know. Checkin' in.

S-Sounds about right.

[That's them. Disaster Squad.]

I mean, it... it didn't seem right that you were, uhm, right there, and, obviously... y-you know. And I didn't do anything. Like, I couldn't even be bothered to... w-walk to another room.

It just felt, uhm. Like I should do something.

It ain't your job to make me better, Alph.

[There's no makin' things better, sometimes. You just kinda have to accept that they're shit, and they're gonna keep being shit for a while yet. Accepting the shit for what it is makes it easier to live with it.

Sometimes, anyway.]

But, uh...I still appreciate it.

[She knows it's not her job. Taking care of people has never been her job. But if they're not happy, if she can't help... what's the point to her?]

Well, I... I know. I just, thought it might be... nice.

[That's the easy way to go about it, without dragging so much of her mental state into the problem. Regardless, she stands, grips at her clothes a bit.]

I'll be, uh, around, if you just wanna h-hang out or... anything. Okay?

[Find a bad movie to watch. Some shitty, awful, horrendously greasy food to enjoy. Something stupid and mundane, so long as he can blot out the phantom screech of Papyrus's protests.]

Yeah. Yeah, I'll...

[He don't have an answer to that. Not right away. Feels wrong to just up and ditch all this, so he simply shrugs, limply. And he grins.]

Thanks.

[It's okay, she reminds herself. He doesn't have to have an answer. She doesn't either. He should just... know she's gonna be there. Know even if Papyrus isn't here, he's not alone.]

Y-You don't need to thank me, it's... yeah. It's okay.

See you, uh, l-later, then.

[And she steps out, shutting the door behind her as quietly as she can as she goes.]

[It's okay.

Farthest thing from it, but, hey. Could be worse. Better here than Hadriel, right? Papyrus is gonna be all nice and elated on the surface. Might even get himself a shiny car. Nothing like this fake bed, all plastic and useless.

The little him, though. He'd - he'd liked it.

He shunts the thought aside.

Tips his skull back to stare at the ceiling without seeing it.]

Yeah, [he mutters to the empty room. To no one in particular.]

See ya.

[And good night.]

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video; what's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it

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