spaghettimonster | Canyon: Inbox

[Yeah, if Sans could have just popped his wings and halo off for a while when that was happening, he definitely would have. Looking at the wiring is odd; intellectually, he knows it's part of Papyrus's arm, but at some point it becomes very abstract. Still, he thinks he can feel Papyrus's magic in it, which is--a new feeling. He puts a hand on the edges of the warped, damaged plastic coating. Yeah, this arm feels like his brother's magic in a way he can't exactly define.]

Rewiring, huh? [At least, that seems more practical than trying to strip the coating and put something new on. Sans traces the paths of the wires with his eyes, trying to work out how things should look without the damage. Sans's constant glow shifts, his arm going from cyan to green, and the coating just--smooths itself out. Fixes itself. All straight and neat and like nothing happened at all.]

Uh.

[It's because he's been so used to feeling burning pain on his wings that he doesn't quite notice it yet, but there's a burn mark on the wing by his left temple.]

Uhhhhh.

[With the limb detached, Papyrus isn't getting any physical sensation coming from it - that being half the point of detaching it - so he can't be sure what's just happened. It looks suddenly improved, like nothing every happened. But he's seen all sorts of not-real things, so it takes him reaching in, poking at the restored wires, to confirm:] That's... not a hologram, or illusion, or whatever.

[His baffled gaze turns to his brother, who is... green? And, he sees now that he's looking more than playing it cool, sporting a small injury of his own.]

Sans..?? You're glowing? [...That's not news.] Differently than usual, uh, in color.

[Sans looks down at his arm and, yup, he's green now, though the green is starting to fade slowly away.]

I think I fixed it? Uh, your arm. [Not the glowing. Sans has long since accepted that the glowing is at least as permanent as his wings and halo are.] I was trying to figure out how it would look if it wasn't burned and it--stopped being burned.

[Sans turns his hand around, looking at the back and front. It doesn't look any different except for still being green.

(Also, for some reason one of his wings is kind of hurting. It's not that bad, though.)]

Okayyy... That sounds like, extremely rapid, effective, healing. [Despite neither of them having magic since everything... and his brother hadn't ever really honed his healing anyway...? At least Sans looks surprised by this.]

And I guess healing... works on machinery... [Which is something of a surprise to Papyrus - there's a degree to which it doesn't feel like him, his limbs and all, still. And not just in the 'no tactile feedback when detached' sense. He gets by thinking of it all as a prosthetic covering for his body, like a cool villain injured by lava or something, during those times he doesn't want to acknowledge the dust in his bedroom. Mechanical fashion, ready to get customized now that they have a workshop and he's started making sense of how it works. (In fact, a careful look around the room would reveal a lot of spare parts and pieces of the starts of designs.)]

And, you're feeling okay? No new... thoughts, or revelations, or, uh, pains? [That mark on Sans's head-wing doesn't look like the leech spot, but you never know! What are the chances they both got burned by something in the last couple hours, anyway?]

[Mentioning pains specifically brings the way Sans's wing is hurting to the forefront of his mind; he wouldn't have thought to bring it up otherwise. He flicks the wing by his temple just once to indicate it.]

I guess this wing hurts all of the sudden. [He can't really see the mark on it, though, since it's on the side of his head. Maybe if he used his halo, but Papyrus is right there, so maybe he sees something.] Didn't hurt before I fixed things. Anything look up with it?

[As for the rapid, effective machinery healing, Sans is still thinking it over. The arm felt like part of Papyrus, not a piece of metal and wiring. He hadn't been able to specify that thing before, he thinks...? But had he ever tried? It's not like he's seen Papyrus take his arm off before.]

It looks, kind of sooty. [As though Sans had paused time and gone wiping the inside of the arm with the wing to clean up all the burning residue, before doing those magically fast repairs. Despite... not having healing magic or time stopping magic...??

Actually, as much as he's keeping an eye on Sans to see whether this new happening is going to come with Surprise Weirdness, he has to do a quick is magic back test. A few seconds glancing away to try levitating a wrench with blue magic.

...Nope.]

[Sans finally opens the eyes on his halo to take a look himself. He has to tilt his wing a little, but he can see the mark now. He reaches up to touch it and it stings just like if he'd burned it.]

Maybe I took the burn from you. [Which doesn't make sense, since that's not how healing magic works, but even the teleportation Sans can do here isn't the same as it works at home, so completely new magic can probably do whatever it wants.

Still, that's not as useful as proper healing magic, if he's just hurting himself doing it. Sans isn't exactly known for his constitution.]

What, we can file transfer injuries now?? [It's a bit of an unconscious turn of phrase. Working on his internal mechanisms, thinking in engineering and programming terms...

Beyond the machine-think, he's a bit distressed by the idea, and grabs for a reason to disagree.]

Wait, no. That doesn't make sense. Why would an arm injury go to your wing?? [The mini wing in his head, at that.] It's not the same place! A translocated injury... should be in a parallel location. [Right...? They could test by Sans trying to do that again, to one of the remaining gouges instead of the burn. But he isn't sure he wants to suggest it.]

I don't think I can file transfer anything. [Sans says, mildly. Papyrus has obviously been working on his robot parts, so Sans suspects that was just a related slip of the tongue, but whenever they ignore the other acting a little off things end badly, so it can't hurt to repeat that phrase and see how Papyrus reacts to it. Anyway, it's true--Sans isn't a robot. If he's healing, it would be working differently. He doesn't need to be asked; Sans moves to touch one of the gouges. Imagine how it would be fixed. It's not the same as rapid regeneration. It's not healing, even if he turns green again as he does it. A papercut thin mark slices across his cheek, letting green magic drip out. It's not healing, it's--

~~[FILE LOADED]~~

--something else. But it works like healing.]

[Papyrus blinks in slow confusion, with a shifting in his cheekbones like normally he'd be opening his jaw, to start asking a question. Then he grimaces, as he recognizes the words being gently - suspiciously mildly - volleyed back his way. That sure is a thing he just said there, huh? It's almost as revealing and uncomfortable as that open, disconnected arm. The side of his skull starts itching again, probably with nervous sweat, and he scratches at it.]

W-Well, you're transferring... something??? [Again it's not Sans's arm, but his head, and Papyrus starts at the sight.] And you're leaking now?! Maybe stop doing that!

[That doesn't look like your regular every day brother ooze, after all! It looks... alarmingly like the leakage from when those skull wings hatched, or whatever word one wants to use for it. (Although the answer to that is 'none' because they both want things like skull wings to stop happening.)]

I am? [Sans felt the sting, and he reaches to touch it, his fingertips coming back wet. Huh, he is. They're both doing some weird stuff today. But Papyrus reacted like calling it a file transfer was weird, so that's a good sign, at least as far as these things go.] Okay, I'll stop. There's nothin' here you can't fix anyway, and this isn't a bad cut.

[Better Sans learn about this new thing in a situation that would give him a little burn and a little cut, compared to something worse.]

Phew. [That's a relief to hear, especially with the aloud reasoning of why Sans isn't tempted to keep doing whatever that was.] Yeah, that's almost certainly true.

[Mostly true, at least. He's not sure what caused that slip of the tongue, or how to go about addressing it. But the injuries to his mechanical parts, they're all extremely fixable.]

Especially now. You did speed it up a lot. [His cheekbones and eyesockets crease in a grin, as he starts putting the various rewiring supplies aside.] Not a bad cut, just a shortcut! [Nyeh heh heh.]

[That gets a chuckle out of Sans.] Yeah, a shortcut to checking out the trampoline I got. [Since Papyrus still has to finish up fixing the gouges Sans didn't transfer to himself, Sans might as well tell him what he got. Though fixing up the gouges probably won't take too long compared to rewiring.]

A trampoline?? [Papyrus pauses in his tool-moving for a second, somewhere between surprised and impressed. They're very much not things common back underground, being far too large to fit down the twists and turns of the cave rivers that feed the dump... And not being of great interest to many monsters. But he's seen them on TV, and more recently in the yards of various homes around them. The height that jumping people reach hadn't seemed impressive to him... until he remembered they were doing it without magic.]

That... sounds fun! I do miss seeing the roof of our house... [He's half tempted to drop what he's doing to go check it out now, but his arm... No, anyway, he shouldn't leave the holes open for long if he can help it, the better to avoid getting debris in them. Not only does it sound gross, and promise to make cleaning up even harder, but he knows how dust and bugs and whatnot in computers can fry them. He shakes his head and grabs an industrial apron, looping it around his neck and working to get it secured around his waist.]

I got a great deal. Got the guy to lower the price if I agreed to take it apart and move it myself. [WINK. Sans did not have to take it apart at all; shortcuts sure are convenient!] Figured I might as well see if these wings actually work, but I don't feel like jumping off the roof.

[But maybe this way they can both see the roof of the house, or something. Sans stays out of Papyrus's way while he goes about preparations to continue fixing his arm, instead doing a short hop teleport from where he's standing on the floor to an empty shelf he can sit on annoyingly where he should not be sitting.]

Incredible. You planned it all out, huh? [His voice is a little dry, but betraying hints of amusement at the end. He can imagine the face the guy must have made, when Sans just up and disappeared.

...Not to mention, stories of such Classic Sans behavior is reassuring when they're both having signs of weirdness. Again. He shakes it off with a shake of his head, bracing his hip against the work station to make it easier to tie the apron's cord just enough - tying things behind his back one-handed, something of a challenge! But a challenge the Great Papyrus is completely up to - before grabbing his welding mask. (It's already been painted to look like a skull. Partly because that's an incredible artistic improvement, partly so that putting it on doesn't leave him looking completely like a robot.)]

Well, without wiring ahead of me... I won't need as many tools, or a tool assistant. So, uh, just hang out up there and supervise! [You know, watch as he finishes welding some temporary casing pieces to cover up those gouges... this time, with casings in place to cover them all before he risks any sparks flying free. The apron's covering the ones in his torso.]

Supervising is my favorite kind of assisting. [Since when Sans supervises is just means he's hanging out. That said, Sans should probably not look right at Papyrus's arc welding, considering how many eyes he has at this point, so he's going to position himself out of the way on this shelf. It's long distance supervision unless Papyrus has a second artistically designed mask around.]

[Alas no - not one sized for Sans's wider skull, with sufficient space to accommodate wings. So he doesn't bother offering the spare, but gets to work. There's a nonflammable barrier up to catch sparks from flying through the rest of the workshop, at least - Sans can position himself to where he can partially see Papyrus without directly staring at the welding.

Partway through it, in between two sections, Papyrus peers out from behind the barrier to squint at his brother's shelf sprawling.]

Don't get so comfortable you decide you're not trampolining today! I want to test it out. And watch you try to fly. [Partly to point and laugh a little at the first flapping efforts, mostly to make sure he's on-hand if it doesn't work and Sans veers off diagonally from the trampoline. Teleportation or no.]

[That just makes Sans sprawl a little more, stretching out his wings to rest them entirely rather than holding them that little bit up off the shelf.] If I use all my wing energy now I'm not gonna be able to fly at all. [This is strategic comfort.]

That... makes sense. [Slow and without much conviction, but Papyrus yields the possibility that's how it works. The shortcut mild cut was helpful enough to shrug off his usual complaints about laziness, though that reminds him to send Sans a final inspecting glance for signs of continued leaking face. How's that cut doing, brother? Obviously the welder won't be helpful, but maybe a bandage?]

[It is still leaking a little, albeit more sluggishly. A bandage would probably help, though Sans seems to be ignoring it.] Of course it does. Can't fly with ruffled feathers. [So he's staying chill, or something.]

Better not pick fights with birds up there. [Or Sans'll be too ruffled to ignore gravity properly, or something.

Papyrus loiters another couple seconds, fidgeting with the welder in his hand, before finally suggesting:] Hey, Sans, as much as I hate saying this... And I really do... You should, take a break from supervising. And go wash your face. [It's still leaking! Good things about being a robot, instead of a glowing juice container: not too much leaking so far.]

Is it still dripping? [Sans has had so many incidents where he leaks aggressively that a little cut seems like practically nothing. But he stretches his wings carefully, avoiding hitting any of Papyrus's things, and hops down off the shelf.] You finish up welding, I'll slap something over that cut.

[He nods at the question rather than answer aloud, not sure how concerned to be - if Sans didn't even notice the pain, it must not be bad. But it's still at least a little worrying, and beyond that it's gross - he doesn't want glowing brother goo in the workshop.]

Yeah, we'll both bandage up! [That's basically what he's doing with his welding here, after all. But it will almost certainly take longer for him to finish this than for Sans to wipe his face off and stick a bandage on it. If his brother doesn't return by the time he's done with the arm...] And don't go wandering off! I could, use your help when I finish this part.

Leave the supervisor shelf clear for me. [That's what that shelf is now. But that does mean Sans will be back, just via teleportation. He heads off to the bathroom to wash the weird magic blood off his face and grab a bandaid. This actually takes a little longer than it might otherwise, because Sans first has to teleport somewhere to buy them. He opts for ones with fun smiley faces all over them and applies one with yellow smiley faces. But he teleports back to the shelf, just like he said he would. He won't say anything if Papyrus is welding, since Sans knows his teleportation is more startling to Papyrus like this and nobody needs a welding accident to happen right now, but as long as Papyrus isn't handling anything dangerous at the moment, Sans will let him know he's back.] Hey.

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