[A failing, he's pretty sure. Shadow - he's not got the clearest picture, he's pretty sure, on the laundry list of failures Sans has to his name, though he's more than a little certain that he's got at least a vague notion.
He laughs, though there's not much to it.]
Cripes, I hope not. I was pretty bad at my job.
[Still is. But he digresses.]
Why? You think you ought'a be judged right about now?
[It's gettin' increasingly clear that he's witnessing some sort of miniature breakdown. He finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed - the racecar bed that hasn't been slept in for months now. Perfectly made. He's wrinkling the coverlet, disrupting the smooth, even distribution of dust.]
Most of us are bad people, Shadow.
[He scans the opposite wall without seeing it, the unlit room cast in uniform dark.]
[That's more than a little interesting. And - don't entirely explain everything, but he's more than accustomed to that himself. He's practically a champion of cryptic one-liners.]
[A moment, and he sets the phone onto the sheets beside him. Frees his hands, lets him fold them together with his forearms draped across his kneecaps as he contemplates the opposite wall.]
That whole remodeling bit we did with Hadriel's ceiling - that was your idea. That weren't any kind of destruction, pal.
Well, no. But how many bad choices d'you think you've made, exactly?
[Not like Shadow's been nothin' but destructive since he got here. In fact, the whole deal with Delight's bar kinda seemed like the exception to the rule.]
[He's gettin' better, he wants to say, at askin' why instead of reducing everything to a reactionary, immediate judgment. Maybe not the judge Shadow is lookin' for, but he never promised him anything.]
[After a point, everybody makes their choices. Regardless of what they were made to be, there's a freedom to pick things apart here. Form yourself into something variegated, and unique.
Maybe that's just an uncharacteristic spurt of optimism on Sans's part.]
[It's a disgruntled if good-natured and comparatively cheerful dismissal. He works very hard to not give a damn, and yet - here he is. Giving a damn. 'Cause once you care, you're fucked.
[An empty comfort, maybe. But it's maybe more of an affirmation than Shadow's ever gotten in his entire life. Either way, it ain't exactly a ringing endorsement, and he doubts that's really gonna be enough.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He laughs, though there's not much to it.]
Cripes, I hope not. I was pretty bad at my job.
[Still is. But he digresses.]
Why? You think you ought'a be judged right about now?
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Okay. What for?
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Most of us are bad people, Shadow.
[He scans the opposite wall without seeing it, the unlit room cast in uniform dark.]
Do you want to destroy anything?
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Didn't answer the question, though.
[Don't think he didn't notice.]
Do you actually want to destroy anything?
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[He digests that silently. Turns it over in his head with his typical nonchalant pace before he can fire back a response.]
Why?
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That whole remodeling bit we did with Hadriel's ceiling - that was your idea. That weren't any kind of destruction, pal.
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[Not like Shadow's been nothin' but destructive since he got here. In fact, the whole deal with Delight's bar kinda seemed like the exception to the rule.]
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Do you regret doing 'em?
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[He's gettin' better, he wants to say, at askin' why instead of reducing everything to a reactionary, immediate judgment. Maybe not the judge Shadow is lookin' for, but he never promised him anything.]
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[After a point, everybody makes their choices. Regardless of what they were made to be, there's a freedom to pick things apart here. Form yourself into something variegated, and unique.
Maybe that's just an uncharacteristic spurt of optimism on Sans's part.]
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[It's a disgruntled if good-natured and comparatively cheerful dismissal. He works very hard to not give a damn, and yet - here he is. Giving a damn. 'Cause once you care, you're fucked.
Well, shit. Here he is.]
The reason you got made ain't you, Shadow.
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It seldom is.]
What brought this on anyway?
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[Being obtuse is the only way he knows how to express concern, apparently.]
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