We should, I bought some the other day... [During that shopping trip, when concerned Sans might be starving for something unidentified. The better to ensure there were many food things available for the testing.
Of course, should isn't the same as yes, not when things go missing in the middle of the night. He strides to the fridge to check, even if Sans moves to do so, and confirms - there's the container.] Yes, we do.
Well, I guess you already mixed the batter, so... [Sans can bring himself to heat up a pan and put some of it in a pan to eat pancakes. He guesses. If there's any passive aggression in the way Papyrus checks to make sure no mysterious midnight syrup thefts have happened, Sans seems to be ignoring it entirely. There's plenty of things Sans feels guilty about doing and not doing, but taking the knife is nowhere on that list.]
If you don't... I can always store it for tomorrow. [Again, he suspects he'd be feeling more about this situation, if his emotions were like they used to be. The unexpected agreement to maybe use the batter, and how it implies trust in Papyrus's word - even with the distrust enough to go taking the knife. The erosion of one step closer to sharing food again, sometime.
As is, he doesn't know what to make of it all, so he doesn't. Instead he focuses on checking his pancake and flips it. Brushes the remaining batteries onto the plate with two pancakes already, to prepare for bringing to the table. Gets a glass of juice ready, while the pancake finishes its thing.]
Nah, I better take advantage of this pancake-making energy. [It could be gone tomorrow, who knows. Luckily, if Sans uses his invisible hands, he can make pancakes even while Papyrus is standing in front of the stove. Having all those hands is undeniably convenient. Sans's pancakes are extremely asymmetrical, though. They're barely ovals.]
[The pancakes, of all things, get the most reaction of anything this morning. Skepticism, traces of judgement and amusement, as Papyrus pauses to stare at them. He tilts his head in search of a direction from which they resemble something, but no - it's not an artistic decision. They're just... shapes. Lumpy shapes. Eventually he shakes his head and flips his remaining pancake onto his plate.] Well. Your pancake-making energy isn't making plaincakes. They have some character.
Someone should make a cartoon about 'em. [Just like those vitamin people. Sans proceeds to drown his shapecakes in syrup before teleporting off to the kitchen table--saving a precious five or six steps, maybe--to eat. It's kind of going to be a shame to ruin this whole breakfast thing with having to deal with emotions afterward. But Sans is still going to do it.]
A cartoon about pancake slimes... [That's about the closest shape that's coming to mind. Slimes, or maybe moldsmals, or something along those lines. Not like anybody or anything he's seen on the surface, so maybe the humans wouldn't see the appeal of the cartoon.
He lets the idea churn as yet another background process, rather than continuing to initiate conversation about it - or, really, anything else. He's feeling pensive, he thinks. Unnerved, but needing to proceed, without clear alternatives towards identifying what's going on. Doing nothing and keeping secrets hasn't worked. He pours the syrup in careful dots across the stack, cutting them into pieces roughly equally between the dots, and eats mechanically - moreso than usual.]
[It's weird, watching Papyrus act so mechanical. Exactly how much of Papyrus's behavior lately has been acting for Sans's benefit? Of course, even Sans realizes that if he brought that up Papyrus would have a list a mile long of times Sans has done the same thing, so it's better not to say anything about it. Still, it's noted, and he has the strangest mixed feelings about it. He doesn't like Papyrus acting like this, but he doesn't like Papyrus not acting however he wants, either, even if it's like this.
If this is permanent, Sans is going to have to get used to it. It shouldn't be the other way around. But they have to figure out if it's permanent first.
Sans waits until after they eat, at least. He doesn't want to do this on an empty stomach, even if he isn't sure he even has to eat real food anymore. Real food is still great.]
[The pancakes are serviceable, with enough milk in the recipe for some calcium - not that he needs much of it now, but it's good to include, especially with Sans borrowing some of the batter. The batteries add just enough charge to be more useful than a social food. Maybe he'll experiment with adjusting the recipe later, maybe he'll feel like things like that. He notes Sans's quiet, that it's lasting longer than usual... But it's early, but this is a plan full of potential discomfort, but many possibilities. When his brother finally speaks, shrugs at the question.]
I'm... Braced for it, at least. [It doesn't seem worth lying about his readiness, if Sans is about to feel it. Another flicker of uncertainty and discomfort crosses his face, which he doesn't rush to cover with anything more energetic. Instead he considers, then offers:] I think, I won't really know, until you do your thing. And see how it goes. So! Do you want me to do anything special...?
Nah, whatever's blocking things would be there no matter how you're feeling. [Or not feeling.] Unless you want to chill on the couch while we're doing this. [But Sans can do this wherever, so that's up to Papyrus.]
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It... doesn't make a big difference to me. [Even if he gets uncomfortable on the kitchen chair, he can just temporarily disable the sensation of it. And the couch would carry the risk of leaning in a way that prevent healthy ventilation. But if Sans is suggesting it, then maybe he wants the excuse...?] But it is sturdier seating. Better if something surprising happens. Yeah, let's go.
Great, I love lounging. [And Sans vanishes, reappearing in his spot on the couch. Even though he talked about lounging, though, he's not actually going to do that. He's sitting up. Slouching, but that's about as close to sitting up straight as Sans gets.]
[Sans disappearing away gives Papyrus a moment to gather himself, then gather the dishes to the sink and give them a quick rinse, before grabbing the remains of his juice and following.]
Just remember, this isn't your turn to take a nap. [With a little delay he smiles to soften it, because he can see full well that Sans isn't lounging as much as advertised. A lingering unease, and wanting to make this as short as they can, prompts him to add:] Let me know when you start. And if it's helpful for me to, think about other things.
It's always my turn to take a nap. [Sans waits until Papyrus is settled on the couch before he focuses.] Okay, starting now. [When Sans does it intentionally, to him it feels a bit like using blue magic, where he extends the flow of magic to something at a distance from him. But he's right that Papyrus won't be able to feel anything as it happens. Sans, though, prepares for feeling whatever's going on with Papyrus. At least it's unlikely to be something really strong that'll knock him for a loop.]
[Very unlikely, unless Sans is somehow bowled over by the relative quiet and stillness of it all. The loud emotions Sans sensed before by accident, agitated self consciousness in the aftermath of battery experiments? Right now is like the molehills to those mountains.
There's a general sense of unease, as Papyrus looks Sans over to search for signs that the sensing is happening. Relief that Sans checked on him, a faint hope that they'll figure out something in this test. Some disappointment that he didn't keep up the ruse, that normalcy didn't trickle in before they had to have a conversation about it all. Annoyance over the missing x-acto knife, deliberation when to finish the project, whether to purchase another tool for the task. A distracted mild curiosity in the background, as he monitors patterns in the memories he uploaded to the PC in the workshop.
Emotions, to an extent. But reduced intensity, shorter-lived, and more reactions to immediate stimuli than overall moods that last for a while. Even his tendency towards anxiety is dimmed down, shifted to devising projections and models for what might come and how he 'should' behave. He grimaces after a bit of watching, fidgets with his hands, but there's only a little comfort in the motion - mostly, it's for the sake of appearances, of not staring motionlessly.]
[It's profoundly still, and there's part of Sans that finds that a relief as it smooths over all his own thoughts, different from the numbness inside him that aches. It's the kind of feeling he wouldn't mind borrowing for a while, except it shouldn't be coming from Papyrus. With everything so quiet, it's easy to notice the minimal ripples of brief, tiny emotions, flickering there and gone.]
It's like the volume's almost all the way down. [Not entirely, though. Sharing Papyrus's mood like this, at least it's very easy to push aside his concerns in favor of analysis.] Think of something that would've made you feel something stronger before. [Hopefully something happy, but Sans doesn't want to dictate that kind of thing. He has a baseline, so maybe if Papyrus pushes at the edges of it, Sans will be able to sense them.]
[Hearing Sans's voice with that relative calm is... strange to listen to. It's not the same calm as that intent focus, a few hours ago. Papyrus flags it to listen to again, to compare to the sound of his own voice these last few hours. Maybe identify a metric of changes to Sans's demeanor, that will help him identify if his brother is sensing him like this again. As for the instruction itself...]
Feel stronger, or feel stronger? [There's an inkling of teasing, poking at his brother for the ambiguity. But there's an obvious overlap for the two ideas, so he doesn't wait for an answer to focus on memories of Undyne. Sparring with her, her eye going wide as she sweated and expressed how impressed she was. He had been... delighted, back then. Triumphant with the close fight, brimming with a sense of acknowledgement, hope for hearing that sentiment echoed dozens of times over.
...But he doesn't feel the same things now, and not only because there's every chance she's dead, or any of that. It's a little too long ago to try directly re-experiencing the emotions, the memories fragmented and faded with time. Memories of triumph and hope, a more present lonely grief.]
[Sans can't tell what Papyrus is thinking about directly, but the dampened mix of former triumph and current loneliness give him some guesses. Still not very strong; it's easy to focus on that right now, with his own feelings muted too, and not to start traveling any well-worn paths of pessimism. (This is the longest he's synchronized before; he'll probably have some thoughts about that when he turns it off again. Right now it's all quiet.)]
Okay, now something more recent. Like from after you could record all your memories. [He might be able to feel if that recording is interfering. It's a third datapoint, regardless.]
...After that started, huh? [Unease again, and the strongest feeling yet in his discomfort of not knowing how much Sans can pick up on. There's also the conflicted impulse to shove it all away and never look at it again, but also not wanting to lose any of it. He considers, and concludes:] Something... from the second day, after things got weird.
[After he got weird. More than a day after 'discovering' he had a roommate he'd forgotten, but before he went on a deep dive of all his texts and receipts - and learned what wasn't being said. 3:47:28pm, in the middle of window browsing some clothes stores because of a general inclination to switch up his look to something more... professionally impressive. Disdain at the slobbishly dressed men in sports gear laughing and taking up the sidewalk, one snickering about monsters and too obviously glancing back at Papyrus. Contemplating whether to note that face and follow up with a listing of the man's character flaws, financial mistakes, and other things he might be unhappy to hear about... Ah, but that would distract him from this boutique's lovely options. One of the mannequins even features a wolf-like head and legs, to better advertise their invited customer base. Perhaps later.
If his normal emotions are mountains, and the current ones molehills, the emotions in this memory are a bed of nails. Not a coherent whole, but strong enough and pointed enough to imitate the overall shape of more normal emotions. And Sans might pick up - there's something ongoing about them, like the emotions of those memories are literally, actively tied up in them. Small fragments of Papyrus still existing in those moments, unable to react to or feel about the present.]
[These emotions are sharp and dangerous, but it's something new to work with. And while it's a memory of emotion, it doesn't feel entirely like a memory. The disdain sits uneasily on Sans, dragging his own memories back to the anomaly. Sans pulls back, disconnects from Papyrus and shakes his head like he's dislodging the feelings.]
Okay. I'm done. I got it. [That ache is creeping back in, now that the smoothed out calmness is gone. He does his best to ignore it. He does his best to ignore the current of unease that other people can just overwrite his emotions if he shifts his magic the wrong way, too. Focus on Papyrus's situation.] You're getting pieces of emotions stuck in your memories.
...Already? [Papyrus's eyes flare in brief surprise as he refocuses on the present, on the ongoing memorization of Sans's posture and expression through the experiment. It looks like he's no longer mirroring Papyrus, given he's not showing the same surprise that Papyrus is feeling - about the speed of the test, and the conclusion drawn, alike.]
Getting 'stuck' in my memories... I've been looking at them. [His voice goes slightly defensive as he frowns. Normally, he might be indignant enough to stand and stomp around the room, at the idea that the very thing he's been examining so closely has the problem, that he's been missing it all this time.] There's notation. Reminders what to feel. It's almost life-like... [Remarkably vivid, he thought. But if Sans thinks differently.] ...You could feel that?
Yeah. I can't tell what you were remembering, just how you felt about it, but that's definitely where they are. [So his memories are tying up his emotion processes... Or something like that. It's weird to think of Papyrus's emotions in those kinds of terms.] Not gone, just, uh, stuck.
Wow. I don't want to believe you, because that sounds like nonsense. But. It's not the kind of nonsense you make jokes about. [He'd know, between a lifetime and more recently specifically compiling a list of that kind of thing, for making his framework of How Papyrus Behaves.exe recommendations. At the very least he has to concede Sans believes it. He shakes his head slowly.]
I can't believe... you've found evidence, that your idea last night was right. [Normally, he might not want to hurt Sans's feelings by asking something so bluntly. But normally a lot of things that should happen don't, and sometimes people steal things without warning, so clearly some of the usual rules are off.] ...Did you know, last night? Did you... do this? At some point?
[Sans can't say the accusation doesn't hurt, but he also can't say he doesn't deserve to be suspected with how much he doesn't say. Surprise at Papyrus asking so plainly shows on his face, but it settles into a more resigned look.] No. I try not to do it at all, even accidentally. Last night was just a guess 'cause they both seemed like they were happening at the same time.
...Okay. [He doesn't bother to sound especially convinced, but he doesn't outright disbelieve it either. Sans looks honestly surprised, for that moment, but the way it settles into resignation, like on some level he'd expected the accusation... Papyrus keeps watching, recording, tracking deviations in expression. It doesn't feel uncomfortable to either of them to keep watching like this, right now, and maybe Sans will confess to other wrong-doings if he's watched long enough.
And maybe that's part of the problem, this want to watch and keep the memories so tightly. Older memories are fragmented and vague, half extrapolations off other memories, and it's frustrating to work with. Things starting since his transformation are more vivid, especially since his eyes changed... But the recording, whatever this is, it didn't start until he started expecting extraordinary recall, when his memories went weird.]
...It didn't, completely, start at the same time. [He can throw his brother a conversational bone, keep the problem solving going, even while he watches and thinks back.] The feelings... that started a few days after I got weird. The memorizing started the first day.
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spaghettimonster) wrote2021-07-31 02:32 am
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Of course, should isn't the same as yes, not when things go missing in the middle of the night. He strides to the fridge to check, even if Sans moves to do so, and confirms - there's the container.] Yes, we do.
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As is, he doesn't know what to make of it all, so he doesn't. Instead he focuses on checking his pancake and flips it. Brushes the remaining batteries onto the plate with two pancakes already, to prepare for bringing to the table. Gets a glass of juice ready, while the pancake finishes its thing.]
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He lets the idea churn as yet another background process, rather than continuing to initiate conversation about it - or, really, anything else. He's feeling pensive, he thinks. Unnerved, but needing to proceed, without clear alternatives towards identifying what's going on. Doing nothing and keeping secrets hasn't worked. He pours the syrup in careful dots across the stack, cutting them into pieces roughly equally between the dots, and eats mechanically - moreso than usual.]
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If this is permanent, Sans is going to have to get used to it. It shouldn't be the other way around. But they have to figure out if it's permanent first.
Sans waits until after they eat, at least. He doesn't want to do this on an empty stomach, even if he isn't sure he even has to eat real food anymore. Real food is still great.]
So. You ready?
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I'm... Braced for it, at least. [It doesn't seem worth lying about his readiness, if Sans is about to feel it. Another flicker of uncertainty and discomfort crosses his face, which he doesn't rush to cover with anything more energetic. Instead he considers, then offers:] I think, I won't really know, until you do your thing. And see how it goes. So! Do you want me to do anything special...?
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papyrus doesn't care, but any sad couch icons would be more relevant there
vital roleplaying decisions
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Just remember, this isn't your turn to take a nap. [With a little delay he smiles to soften it, because he can see full well that Sans isn't lounging as much as advertised. A lingering unease, and wanting to make this as short as they can, prompts him to add:] Let me know when you start. And if it's helpful for me to, think about other things.
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There's a general sense of unease, as Papyrus looks Sans over to search for signs that the sensing is happening. Relief that Sans checked on him, a faint hope that they'll figure out something in this test. Some disappointment that he didn't keep up the ruse, that normalcy didn't trickle in before they had to have a conversation about it all. Annoyance over the missing x-acto knife, deliberation when to finish the project, whether to purchase another tool for the task. A distracted mild curiosity in the background, as he monitors patterns in the memories he uploaded to the PC in the workshop.
Emotions, to an extent. But reduced intensity, shorter-lived, and more reactions to immediate stimuli than overall moods that last for a while. Even his tendency towards anxiety is dimmed down, shifted to devising projections and models for what might come and how he 'should' behave. He grimaces after a bit of watching, fidgets with his hands, but there's only a little comfort in the motion - mostly, it's for the sake of appearances, of not staring motionlessly.]
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It's like the volume's almost all the way down. [Not entirely, though. Sharing Papyrus's mood like this, at least it's very easy to push aside his concerns in favor of analysis.] Think of something that would've made you feel something stronger before. [Hopefully something happy, but Sans doesn't want to dictate that kind of thing. He has a baseline, so maybe if Papyrus pushes at the edges of it, Sans will be able to sense them.]
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Feel stronger, or feel stronger? [There's an inkling of teasing, poking at his brother for the ambiguity. But there's an obvious overlap for the two ideas, so he doesn't wait for an answer to focus on memories of Undyne. Sparring with her, her eye going wide as she sweated and expressed how impressed she was. He had been... delighted, back then. Triumphant with the close fight, brimming with a sense of acknowledgement, hope for hearing that sentiment echoed dozens of times over.
...But he doesn't feel the same things now, and not only because there's every chance she's dead, or any of that. It's a little too long ago to try directly re-experiencing the emotions, the memories fragmented and faded with time. Memories of triumph and hope, a more present lonely grief.]
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Okay, now something more recent. Like from after you could record all your memories. [He might be able to feel if that recording is interfering. It's a third datapoint, regardless.]
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[After he got weird. More than a day after 'discovering' he had a roommate he'd forgotten, but before he went on a deep dive of all his texts and receipts - and learned what wasn't being said. 3:47:28pm, in the middle of window browsing some clothes stores because of a general inclination to switch up his look to something more... professionally impressive. Disdain at the slobbishly dressed men in sports gear laughing and taking up the sidewalk, one snickering about monsters and too obviously glancing back at Papyrus. Contemplating whether to note that face and follow up with a listing of the man's character flaws, financial mistakes, and other things he might be unhappy to hear about... Ah, but that would distract him from this boutique's lovely options. One of the mannequins even features a wolf-like head and legs, to better advertise their invited customer base. Perhaps later.
If his normal emotions are mountains, and the current ones molehills, the emotions in this memory are a bed of nails. Not a coherent whole, but strong enough and pointed enough to imitate the overall shape of more normal emotions. And Sans might pick up - there's something ongoing about them, like the emotions of those memories are literally, actively tied up in them. Small fragments of Papyrus still existing in those moments, unable to react to or feel about the present.]
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Okay. I'm done. I got it. [That ache is creeping back in, now that the smoothed out calmness is gone. He does his best to ignore it. He does his best to ignore the current of unease that other people can just overwrite his emotions if he shifts his magic the wrong way, too. Focus on Papyrus's situation.] You're getting pieces of emotions stuck in your memories.
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Getting 'stuck' in my memories... I've been looking at them. [His voice goes slightly defensive as he frowns. Normally, he might be indignant enough to stand and stomp around the room, at the idea that the very thing he's been examining so closely has the problem, that he's been missing it all this time.] There's notation. Reminders what to feel. It's almost life-like... [Remarkably vivid, he thought. But if Sans thinks differently.] ...You could feel that?
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I can't believe... you've found evidence, that your idea last night was right. [Normally, he might not want to hurt Sans's feelings by asking something so bluntly. But normally a lot of things that should happen don't, and sometimes people steal things without warning, so clearly some of the usual rules are off.] ...Did you know, last night? Did you... do this? At some point?
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[At least he can answer completely honestly.]
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And maybe that's part of the problem, this want to watch and keep the memories so tightly. Older memories are fragmented and vague, half extrapolations off other memories, and it's frustrating to work with. Things starting since his transformation are more vivid, especially since his eyes changed... But the recording, whatever this is, it didn't start until he started expecting extraordinary recall, when his memories went weird.]
...It didn't, completely, start at the same time. [He can throw his brother a conversational bone, keep the problem solving going, even while he watches and thinks back.] The feelings... that started a few days after I got weird. The memorizing started the first day.
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last tag was as i was falling asleep - want to emphasize, he did feel happy there! did
that came across! sans was just overthinking it
as he does
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what if I just steal that icon
crimes! but yeah it's a good one, an uncommon scene but important mood
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that week delayed tag where you reread the whole thread and you're still not sure it's right, but
this is what happens when they try to talk about feelings
skeleton conundrum, they don't talk feelings when they're having them OR when they're not
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