[Now that the drone's audio is deactivated, Sans gives it a little pat. Thanks for letting Papyrus also hang out on the couch with him, drone, good job. He tends to treat all the various helicopters and roombas and such as weird pets when Papyrus isn't actively using them. (He also hardly noticed the stereo representation of Papyrus's voice, or rather the idea of his senses repeating something from multiple perspectives is something he's so used to now, with how many eyes he has, that it no longer registers as strange enough to be concerned about on its own.)
Sans doesn't move from his spot on the couch, of course, though he does sit up just a little straighter as the mumbling continues. It's starting to become a little more clear, less mumbling, more whispering.] Hang on, that's... [He can pick out words, recognizing the ones that they've translated at the dig site. It's half understandable, though it's not as if it's anything new. But he knows what that is, and he goes very still.]
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Sans doesn't move from his spot on the couch, of course, though he does sit up just a little straighter as the mumbling continues. It's starting to become a little more clear, less mumbling, more whispering.] Hang on, that's... [He can pick out words, recognizing the ones that they've translated at the dig site. It's half understandable, though it's not as if it's anything new. But he knows what that is, and he goes very still.]