[Why? Of every thought, of any scrap of reason left to him, that's the one pushing through to the surface. Why this effort on his behalf? Why this willingness to sacrifice? Why this kindness? Koltira doesn't deserve it. He deserves nothing from these people, and from Papyrus least of all. He'd returned friendship with violence; faith with betrayal. Worst of all, he knew he would. It was why he tried to distance himself: to do the job assigned, and leave the rest.
But for all he's transformed, and for all he's suffered, Koltira still longs for companionship. Understanding. Someone to look at him and know the truth of him, beyond the monstrous exterior. He cannot say that Papyrus understands. But Papyrus hadn't even seen a monster to understand in the first place.
Koltira screams, in frustration, in pain. He has enough of himself to see a path--out of the trade district, out of the city. It's time to take it.]
Don't follow me, Papyrus. Don't think of me.
[He turns around, exhaling hard.]
Take care of yourself.
[He takes a few steps towards the (quickly thinning, given his appearance) crowd, and then he breaks into a run.]
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But for all he's transformed, and for all he's suffered, Koltira still longs for companionship. Understanding. Someone to look at him and know the truth of him, beyond the monstrous exterior. He cannot say that Papyrus understands. But Papyrus hadn't even seen a monster to understand in the first place.
Koltira screams, in frustration, in pain. He has enough of himself to see a path--out of the trade district, out of the city. It's time to take it.]
Don't follow me, Papyrus. Don't think of me.
[He turns around, exhaling hard.]
Take care of yourself.
[He takes a few steps towards the (quickly thinning, given his appearance) crowd, and then he breaks into a run.]