[Open] working your fingers to the bones, cause nobody loves you when you're gone

[coolskeletonnyehntyfive]

Who: Papyrus, Sans, and YOU!
When: March 12th and onwards
Where: Medbay
What: Papyrus had a really bad idea that nearly got himself and Sans killed. Sans put out a call for help. This log is for the general followup/aftermath.
Warnings: Broken bones and hearts, cracked skulls, life draining, will add more if necessary.

((OOC Note: The translator event will affect the skeletons, so anyone tagging in on the 13th will be in for a lively game of charades!))

Comments

[rraidergirl]

Uh oh...

Lara frowns and puts her fingers to her lips, hoping the sign for hush is truly universal. She squeezes his hand back, hoping it's reassuring. Whatever is happening, she's here. As long as she's here, she can help.

"Can you understand me?" She speaks slowly and clearly, carefully enunciating her words.

[skelepun]

It's obvious from the look on Sans' face as he squints and tries to interpret her that, no. No he does not.

He squeezes her hand back, looking down at his MID. The garbled message was missed in all his worry, but nevertheless here it was. Wordlessly -- for obvious reasons -- Sans holds his wrist out for Lara to see.

[rraidergirl]

Lara leans a little the read the message, frowning. Oh dear...

Well, it's almost entierly out of her expertise. She leans back a little and spreads her hands in an exaggerated and helpless shrug as if to say What now?

[skelepun]

Sans raises a brow bone. It's a little more expressive than Lara would have ever seen him, even during the most hectic of their experiences together.

But hey, if charades are on the table, Sans certainly didn't intend to come in last place.

He shrugs, rolling his shoulder blades thoughtfully until finally responding. He gestured to himself, shook his head, and then lay a finger alongside his nasal bone. Or, in this case, his know-se.

I don't know, think they'll fix it?

[rraidergirl]

It pulls a bit of a smile from her, one she tries to hide by biting her lower lip and failing at.

She tips her head, considering and then nods. Another pause and then she holds up a hand to give a sort of vague gesture, scrunching up her nose. Yes. Well. Probably.

[skelepun]

Liar.

That sentiment is communicated with only the barest quirk of a brow bone. Moira incompetence was practically an inside joke among the entirety of the crew at this point.

Sans leans back in his chair, losing the fight against laughter. As if the situation wasn't more absurd before. He rubs at his temple, shaking his head with a shrug.

What a week, right?