Sans looks down at the marks on his hands and arms with complete incomprehension and visible hope that they don't mean what they obviously do. The machine is what they used to give him these powers. The machine must be a good thing. Hope is the thing with feathers, and so it must inevitably die. But they haven't heard him, and he hasn't heard them, and suddenly they're all sitting together in the river person's boat, heading safely home for Snowdin.
Gaster continues speaking as though the shift in time and space hasn't happened, picking up a conversation he never actually began.
"I will not be here to tell him. I am never here to tell him. Please promise me that you will." Gaster wrings his hands miserably, except he's only doing so with one. The other hand seems to have disappeared, somehow.
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Date: 2016-03-30 10:11 pm (UTC)Gaster continues speaking as though the shift in time and space hasn't happened, picking up a conversation he never actually began.
"I will not be here to tell him. I am never here to tell him. Please promise me that you will." Gaster wrings his hands miserably, except he's only doing so with one. The other hand seems to have disappeared, somehow.