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[spaghettimonster]

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text; midnight; early December

[ribticklers]

[These are four texts.]

hey papyrus
you're up right

papyrus

hey

wait
are you asleep?

[spaghettimonster]

[He is, indeed, asleep. Very asleep, with a mask on to protect his sleepy eyes from stabs of sunlight come morning and everything. But maybe the radio buzzes with the texts, or maybe he happens to wake coincidentally around then.

Either way, it's about five minutes - an impossibly long time - before Papyrus answers.]

I -WAS- ASLEEP.
DO YOU NEED TO COME IN?
IS IT ZOMBIES?

[Somebody woke up on the guilt trip side of the bed this... midnight? Sans, why.]

[ribticklers]

[Wow, don't make Sans feel bad! Luckily it only works a little bit.]

sorry
not used to you actually sleeping
anyway now that you're up
i don't need to come in but you need to come outside
no zombies

[Sans isn't a slow texter by any means, but these are coming faster than usual, indicating excitement about one thing or another.]

[spaghettimonster]

[Ugh. Don't remind him about the sleeping crap.]

OKAY...
YOU'RE BEING MYSTERIOUS.

BUT THAT'S COMPLETELY NORMAL.
BE RIGHT THERE.

[Even slowed down by banter and guilt trip, Papyrus still appears at the door with almost typical-Papyrus speeds. He's got an evening robe pulled loosely around his shoulders, as though he'd started rushing down while texting, just in case it was something serious.

Being half-asleep, though, it takes him a few seconds to fumble with the lock.]

[ribticklers]

[Sans meets Papyrus at the door. In fact, as soon as it's open, he grabs Papyrus by the arm and drags him out away from the house.]

Look, see? [Sans points up. Apparently midnight is just Looking At Stars Time, as decided by Sans right this second.]

December 25

[ribticklers]

[At some point when Papyrus isn't looking, Sans sneaks the following under his tree at Papyrus's house:

One white-and-silver-foil-wrapped present from Santa, with the tag rewritten to be for Papyrus, which contains racecar bed... slippers.

One Christmas gift bag with some red and green tissue paper stuck haphazardly on top, from Sans, which contains this toy robot.]

action; early January

[ribticklers]

[When Sans wakes up feeling magic humming through his soul again, he knows there's only one thing to do: wait for Papyrus to be alone in his backyard. Sans is very patient; he stands by the fence, waiting, until he's sure it's only Papyrus anywhere nearby and, just as importantly, that Papyrus is turned away from the fence. Then he hops up onto the stepladder he has dragged over to said fence for specifically this occasion and pulls Papyrus over to the fence and then up with blue magic, just out of reach of being able to touch the ground.]

Morning, bro. [It may or may not actually be morning.]

the mandatory 'i am in the air and didn't mean to be' icon

[spaghettimonster]

[It's not Christmas anymore, and the Christmas village itself disappeared, which would seem to imply that the time for decorations is passing too. Papyrus is leaving up the various lights, especially the string lights around the rooftop - they're cheering, reminiscent of the decor in Snowdin, and might be helpful if more antlered carnivores or dripping zombies show up. But he's cleaning up the other yard decorations, gathering wooden reindeer and Santa sleigh and so forth into a box to exile to the garage, or perhaps the attic.

He's focused on the task, working hard to avoid thoughts of why he wants to reduce the Christmas reminders, so there's a lot of things he isn't expecting at the moment. Among the highest would be a sudden return of magic. When there's a yank in his sternum and gravity shifts to pull him into the air, he yelps and flails as gracelessly as if he'd never experienced it before. By the time he recovers and Sans sets him to hovering just out of reach of the ground, his face is bright red.]

Sans. A-Are you... [He sputters, torn between indignation at the prank, his reaction, and the surprise of it all.] Your magic's working??? [Clearly, Papyrus's isn't, as he keeps trying to tug back control and get his feet on the ground.]

[ribticklers]

[Sans tests the drain of his magic as he lifts Papyrus just a little bit higher in the air, grinning widely, chin in his hand as he leans on the top of the fence.] Just this. Figured I'd lift your spirits. [Holding Papyrus in the air is definitely draining his reserves more than he might expect, though with Papyrus just flailing around it's not too bad. He could use it in a fight, still, if he had to. Well, more pointedly, he could use it to get away from a fight. The drain wasn't as bad as when he was testing it on smaller things... Well, he's never lifted a human before. They've got a lot more mass, so...

Anyway Sans is just kind of wiggling Papyrus around experimentally in the air as he considers these things. Sorry Papyrus.]

[spaghettimonster]

[All of that extra human mass is asserting itself in Papyrus's awareness right now. He never had a conversation with Undyne about vomit basketball hoop puzzles, (unfortunately...?), but if he had, he'd be thinking of that conversation now. Nausea's still a relatively unfamiliar experience, and he crosses his arms to hide that he's holding himself for comfort.]

Consider them lifted! [Another attempt to flip Sans over the fence fails, and Papyrus heaves a sigh.] I'd return the favor, but, somehow, it isn't working... what did you do??? How'd you get it back??

[ribticklers]

[Sans puts Papyrus back down, finally. He probably shouldn't waste all his energy on pranking his brother right now when he might want to prank his brother again later in the day.] Just woke up with it. Didn't do anything in particular. [Hardly did anything, as a general rule.] I kinda figured we were just gonna be stuck like this, but maybe it wears off?

[It being whatever magic is in place that deprived them of their own magic and stuck them in human bodies in the first place.]

library; morning in mid-January

[ribticklers]

[Sans is almost never awake this early, but he figures that's exactly the time he should head off to dig up old newspapers and magazines, because nobody would be looking for him anywhere. While there's plenty of weird holes in the selection, Sans has managed to piece together enough pictures of Halloween costumes to get an idea of what kind of costumes were worn when.

But, almost buried behind piles of old papers, he isn't really aware of who else might be in the library right now.]

[spaghettimonster]

[Papyrus is no longer as consistently awake at this time as he'd like to be, and it's an ongoing trial for him. Why is it that humans, so notoriously sturdy and strong-souled, would need so much sleep? There's nothing about water that makes people sleepy, so being mostly made of water shouldn't change anything... yet it does. Thankfully, there's caffeine. He's managing to wake up early like this thanks largely to the teamwork of alarm clock and coffee, with generous portions of the latter. One cup's even along for the ride, though its contents were gone before he even grabbed a book, and now it's sitting on the chair next to him cooling.

Unfortunately, he's still yawning as he starts to read - huge yawns that blind him at random. Once he loses his place for the third time in a page, it's clear:] This is a situation... for more coffee.

[He pushes himself to his feet, rubs at his eyes, and retrieves the mug. The diner's not too far away, after all. And he goes to put the book back in the return slot, to reclaim when he's a little more awake... when he notices a familiar face. He pauses, blinks and squints. Maybe it's someone else, but that'd be an uncanny coincidence.]

...Huh? Sans?

[ribticklers]

[Sans has to resist the wild impulse to sweep his arm across the table, send all the papers scattering to the floor, and escape. During that instant of thought, he stares owlishly at Papyrus like he got caught at something. Then his expression smooths out again, because the thing to do here is act like he's not doing anything.]

What's up? [He has put on his best casual tone. If he acts like it's completely normal for him to be up early and at the library, then it becomes true, maybe.]

[spaghettimonster]

You, somehow. Mysteriously... [Papyrus keeps squinting at his brother, but the focus is on his face, rather than the papers all over the table. One step at a time. He has priorities, here.]

How do you... keep being awake, when I'm not. What's your secret? [It seems like ever since they woke up as humans, Sans has had a renewed well of energy and drive, while Papyrus is weighed down and exhausted constantly. It's backwards and agitating, and the more he pushes himself to do better, the worse does. But surely embracing the laziness isn't the answer, is it?]

[ribticklers]

[Really, Sans would rather be in bed. Going back to bed is on the list of potential things to do after this, which he could make a joke about, but then it would lead to the question of what Sans specifically woke up for just to go back to sleep after.]

I take naps. Got a real good one in yesterday at work. [He shouldn't be doing that, but of course he is.] You're still up more'n me, if you line up all the hours.

February 10 text so of course I do not expect a reply here

[ribticklers]

hey
text me back when you see this
or call me or whatever

better luck next week

[spaghettimonster]

February 10 evening, since I can also make my cr suffer

[ribticklers]

[Listen. It's time for bedtime stories, and just because Papyrus is missing doesn't mean Sans is going to miss it. Of course, he can't have a proper conversation with Papyrus right now, but what he can do is record himself reading Fluffy Bunny--or reciting it from memory, rather. He's read it enough that it's not difficult.]

G'night, Papyrus.

[See you in the morning, maybe? But probably not.]

February 11 evening

[ribticklers]

[For tonight's bedtime story, it's another fluffy bunny tale! Not the original, and not one Sans knows quite by heart, so if Papyrus does ever get to listen to this there are a few paraphrased sections. Sans can imagine Papyrus protesting at how Sans breezes over the details he forgot--no style at all, not how anyone should be telling a story!]

Night, Papyrus.

[Please don't be dead.]

February 12 evening

[ribticklers]

[Sans is making up a story tonight! Not something he's done much since Papyrus was a kid, but not completely unheard of. This story is about a very brave and cool and handsome skeleton knight who saves a kingdom from an invading army by first beating the leader of the human army in a test of wit and skill and then convincing everyone to be friends. Kind of skimpy on the details except for the emphasis on how super cool the protagonist is. They're a very cool protagonist. The coolest.]

Goodnight, Papyrus.

[What if he's dead right now? He could be. Sans has no proof either way. But considering the creatures this place sicced on them in December, kidnapping people to kill them seems like it would be unnecessary. But Sans can't be sure.

Please don't be dead. Please.]

February 13 evening

[ribticklers]

[Sans knows Papyrus can't receive these. Sans has Papyrus's watch, along with Sayori's, and he's been hanging onto them for safekeeping. But how else is he going to do this bedtime routine?

So, tonight's story is Sans doing a not-so-great job of trying to recite things from Advanced Puzzle Construction for Critical Minds. Gotta say, not Sans's idea of great bedtime reading. He's never been that into puzzles beyond the delight he gets from Papyrus's excitement over them, and it shows in how he has to skip around and hesitate, with lots of "um"s and "uhh"s and paraphrasing and jokes about how you just "you know, hook up the wires to the other wires and don't get electrocuted". Papyrus would be so mad about this rendition. He really wants to hear Papyrus get mad about it later. Maybe he'll get to hear this later.]

G'night, bro.

[Sans doesn't know what to do. Sans doesn't know if there's anything to do.]

February 14 evening

[ribticklers]

[Apparently there's some holiday happening today? Sans probably heard about it before the kidnappings, but it's the last thing on his mind afterward, and he doesn't notice again until all of the town weirdos are talking about it. Still, he's left a box of candy in Papyrus's room for if he theoretically comes back, because that is how this holiday works, he guesses. Frankly, he's still very vague on the specifics of what's happening.

It's more important that it's another evening, and that means another story. Sans reads from a book he actually bought here last month: a book on the constellations and their stories. He'll read through some of those, starting with Ursa Major and Ursa Minor.]

Goodnight, Papyrus.

[Sans figures he'll just keep doing this until he knows what happened for sure. If he doesn't ever figure it out, maybe he'll just keep doing it forever? Sure, why not.]

february 22; text

[hxppythxughts]

hi uncle papyrus!!! 'u'

[More exclamation points and affectionate nickname means she is More Fine...obviously.]

sooooo my hair is pretty messed up because it turns out half of it got shaved off while we were in that dumb lab u_u;;;
but sans told me youre a hairdresser now!!!
so i was wondering if youd help me fix mine <3

[A brief pause, and then:]

i dont really want to ask one of the salons in town to do it so you seemed like the best person to ask
but you dont have to if youre busy!!

text

[spaghettimonster]

HI SAYORI!!!!

['Niece Sayori' just doesn't flow as well as 'Uncle Papyrus', though maybe he's biased in thinking so... Either way, they're on the same page about the meaning of exclamation points. The more exclamation points, the more sincerity and enthusiasm, of course! How could anyone think otherwise!!]

SANS BROUGHT YOU TO THE RIGHT UNCLE.
NORMALLY I'M VERY BUSY, WORKING AT ONE OF THOSE VERY SAME SALONS.
AND HOUSEWORK, AND COOKING, AND LOTS OF OTHER THINGS.
BUT RIGHT NOW, THE SALON'S MISSING MY COMPANY.
I'M ON A LITTLE, R&R SABATICAL.
SANS HAS GOOD ADVICE, SOMETIMES.
AND HE'S A... GOOD? EXAMPLE? OF HOW TO TAKE IT EASY.

[For reasons that nobody in this conversation needs to dwell on, Papyrus has called out of work for a couple weeks. It's fine! All is well!! Time heals most wounds!!!!!]

BUT! FOR MY FAVORITE NIECE! OF COURSE I'M THE BEST PERSON TO ASK.
I DON'T WANT TO TAKE IT TOO EASY.
OR LET MY SKILLS ATROPHY IN THE COMFORT OF COUCH SURFING.
SO COME ON BY!!!
I'LL UNLOCK THE DOOR.