Skeleton Ghost

A Glimpse of Culture

((Guess who forgot this fic again?
...Me. It was me. I forgot I even had chapters left to post. These have been sitting here since last year oh my God I feel so bad-
Well, in other news..
The gang is listening to music today, my darling bitches. Self-indulgent fic go brr-))

They didn't like the sight below them. It was strange. They.. knew what everything they saw was, each filling each other's gaps, but the memories of a distant past resided within as well. Occasionally thoughts blended together and became the thoughts of something more.

They/he didn't like this. The world's life- it's lungs, so to speak- were being eaten away by humans. So much devastation. It awakened a dull anger inside, one largely squashed by the fear. Humans held so much power now, so much that they themselves could barely comprehend. It was not right.

The flying raft began to slow, and Sans blinked back to the present as Napstablook shook his head, banking to the side.
"We close, Andalé?" He asked, glancing at the back of the avian skull on the end of the plank.
It's beak clattered before the owner emerged around the corner inside the balsaérea. "Si, we are. Come inside now, yes? We worry. Your brother especially."

Sans winced, knowing the effects of how he left would leave scars.
"Gimme a sec, will you? Been thinking here." He drummed his phalanges on the bone acting as a rail. Andalé hummed, retreating into the main room.

As the dragon began lazily circling the sky raft from high above, Sans listened to the quiet conversation inside, not bothering to actually pick out words from the babble. The balsaérea was dipping slowly, directing itself to a broad space between trees, where hundreds of stones and plaques covered the ground, joined by a few scattered stone buildings. Frisk mentally snorted, recognizing the place for what it was.

The dragon eventually teleported to the ground, gliding a dozen feet before flapping and coming to a stop, landing elegantly amidst a portion of the vast field that was flat gravemarkers. The air was silent, broken only by the rustling of leaves as their footsteps slid across the trim grass.

Soon the raft settled in the corner of the field, in an area left barren of stone, waiting for more of the dead to bury in it's unmarked plots. The dragon sedately strode over, picking around gravestones with slight unease.

Spade was the first to step into the front cabin, waving shyly at Sans as Papyrus appeared behind him, mildly anxious. The tallest of them quickly scooped up Sans, undeniably afraid of losing him again. There was only so long he could go without seeing him now. Sans could only silently curse Gaasyendietha for what the piasa halfling had done.

"Is this some kind of religious place?" Spade whispered loudly, taking in the eerie place.
"..In part." Sans admitted. "It's a graveyard, where humans bury their dead underground. Every statue, every carved stone, every plaque represents a human life that came and went, their bodies somewhere underneath."

Spade promptly hopped back on the raft, afraid of touching the ground.
"They really just stick around when they die? No dusting?" Candara whispered.
"Uh.. yes and no? Their bodies slowly come apart. Y'know when you pick a flower and after a while it just kinda falls apart? That, but many, many times grosser. Bugs and bad smells are involved. Humans can choose to turn their bodies to dust as an alternative, though. Specifically ash. They put the ashes in an urn or something and keep it or spread it somewhere like dust."

".. That's actually really monster-y of them." Constantia noted in surprise.
"We are not all that different from humanity." Sans agreed quietly.

Andalé worked himself through the crowd, stepping off the plank with a huff.
"Come now, it is safe to walk here. I would not set us on the dead."
"There are no dead humans here?" Candara asked.
"Note the lack of gravestones." Lewi pointed out, already several paces away from the raft.