'Was'....was. An older brother and a younger one, but not currently anymore. It's a familiar implication, to say the least, and it has Lucas's hands stilling around his potato even before Sans ends up asking a similar question himself.
That question certainly sets something into place, though, and Lucas's entire frame ends up stilling too. He stares at Sans for a moment, expression maybe blank or maybe surprised or maybe just--confused. As if he doesn't know how to answer. (This would be about right.)
"He's--resting now." They're the first words to come to mind, and Lucas finds that the tone of his own voice suddenly feels unfamiliar in his mouth, somehow. Weight slides off the counter as he straightens on his feet again. "...He was very tired. He's resting with Mom, back home. But--but he was older, yes."
Lucas looks down to find his knuckles turning white around the potato in his hand. He hadn't noticed he was gripping it that hard--hadn't felt it. But suddenly it's easier to turn away from Sans, in that moment, if only so he can put the potato back on the counter. ...And reach for the knife, and--yes, that's right, he ought to finish cutting these potatoes before the stew's done...
Peeling is a bit harder with unsteady hands, apparently. "Claus. That's...that was his name."
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ah......this escalated quickly :'V ALL ABOARD THE BROTHERLY-FEELINGS TRAIN
Date: 2016-02-08 07:40 am (UTC)That question certainly sets something into place, though, and Lucas's entire frame ends up stilling too. He stares at Sans for a moment, expression maybe blank or maybe surprised or maybe just--confused. As if he doesn't know how to answer. (This would be about right.)
"He's--resting now." They're the first words to come to mind, and Lucas finds that the tone of his own voice suddenly feels unfamiliar in his mouth, somehow. Weight slides off the counter as he straightens on his feet again. "...He was very tired. He's resting with Mom, back home. But--but he was older, yes."
Lucas looks down to find his knuckles turning white around the potato in his hand. He hadn't noticed he was gripping it that hard--hadn't felt it. But suddenly it's easier to turn away from Sans, in that moment, if only so he can put the potato back on the counter. ...And reach for the knife, and--yes, that's right, he ought to finish cutting these potatoes before the stew's done...
Peeling is a bit harder with unsteady hands, apparently. "Claus. That's...that was his name."