spaghettimonster | Canyon: Inbox

[The cleaning motions are a surprise, and Papyrus goes still - partly because it tickles, and he's racing to figure out how to deactivate that without turning off all sensation. What is his brother doing, anyway? Did he get soot on himself, going too close to the fire?] Uh, clear pluses to puzzle design, I won't lie!

[Well, if there is soot, that is getting cleaned off, but it's more that Sans is fixing up any kinks or tangles. It's unlikely they can get too messy, but they are part of a joint and all. He's still completely unaware he's doing it, though.] Still kind of weird to not have snow around, though. It's supposed to be winter right now, right? And winter's supposed to mean snow, at least in most of the books and on TV. But there isn't any here. [Also: Sans is still talking too much.]

[It's baffling to watch and feel, even after he gets the ticklish part shut down. (And flagged for maybe never turning back on, for any of him?) The wires have only so much range of motion, the better to not get pinched in the joint... But it's clear Sans is making little adjustments to reduce the chances of that. Maybe his brother's been reviewing some of the diagrams Papyrus has made of his body...? All of this doesn't completely end the excitement of the maze or surprised delight of Sans building things, but there's a confused watchfulness building as he keeps up the conversation, somewhat slowly.] Maybe the weird air's eating all the snow...? It didn't stop rain, but who knows! Crystals might have been the last straw.

I think it's a climate thing. Like, some places are like Hotland, just without the lava. [Sans knows theoretically how weather works, but San Benedicto is still his first real experience, so thinking about other places is still pretty abstract. Apparently satisfied with Papyrus's elbow wiring, he moves on to the shoulder. There's more range of movement to a shoulder, so it stands to reason there should be more to sort out. Sans's hands don't quite stop moving, but as Papyrus's confusion starts to leak over, he slows down and regards Papyrus with a mirrored confusion that only grows as he realizes he's not actually sure what's confusing him.] Is something up?

[A climate thing makes sense, in so far as he knows or cares about the specifics of such things. It made sense to learn about about what normally causes thunderstorms, the better not to be surprised by them again. And learning about why the length of day changes through the year, that was useful. But a lot of the details don't mean so much, when they've seen so little of the planet. in person. He doesn't pursue the topic, which accidentally gives away his confusion.]

I'm... not sure. You don't usually offer, uh, maintenance help? [Taking some care not to shift that arm, he gestures at his shoulder with the other hand.] I guess, you're in a mood for tinkering with cool devices! Which I can't blame you for, I feel the same all the time! [There's a little tone of offering the theory less out of believing it himself, more testing to see how Sans reacts to it. But he's still mostly feeling curiosity, confusion about this - not alarm. Absentminded cleaning isn't as alarming as smoothie-destroying void brain.]

[A few of Sans's eyes follow Papyrus's gesture, and then his hands do stop moving.] I, uh--heh--don't know why I'm doing that. [Which means he should stop, but the way he moves his hands away is obviously reluctant. Still, he manages it.] I dunno if I'd call it tinkering. [More like preening. But that's weird, right?]

Didn't feel like you were unplugging anything. [He says this as an agreement. Not that Sans could so easily - the wiring largely plugs into things under his plating, out of reach right now. Tinkering would be changing things, while this... kind of wasn't. The yard had been tinkering, and he'd been encompassing them both.] More like dusting, and neatening things. Which... is as surprising from you as the maze! But, it didn't hurt. [Weird, but not alarming alarming, he finds as he examines what he's feeling.]

...Kind of peaceful? [Not a reaction he expected to be feeling, yet there it is. Something had been relaxing as Sans did that.]

Yeah, it's like when I fix my wings sometimes. [He isn't going to call it preening out loud but that's absolutely what it is. Having Papyrus calling it peaceful is something Sans can relate to, though, which means the unease ebbs away again.] It's nice, right? And it doesn't take a lot of energy to do. [So it can't be that weird, right? If it's not weird, maybe he'll get to finish up Papyrus's shoulder.]

Oh, so it just looks like doing stuff! I see. [It's a very jokingly accusatory tone, which he undermines immediately.] I'm just ribbing you. And, I'll let you know if I get uncomfortable. [Physically, he mostly means. But emotionally would be relevant too, if the odd relaxing feeling fades. Or he notices his own casual skeleton pun.]

[Sans's grin widens a bit when he hears the pun--though, considering Papyrus said it so casually, not in a way that implied he was doing it for Sans's benefit, maybe that's a little weird?--and returns to his not-doing-stuff, straightening out the wires methodically but gently.] This is way easier than doing stuff. [He doesn't have to think too hard about it the same way he doesn't have to work too hard at it. It doesn't entirely stop his mind from ticking away, but it quiets it down a little. Actually, it's working better than usual in that respect right now.]

I guess you have done a lot of stuff today. [Another jokingly begrudging capitulation to letting Sans resume being lazy, for some meaning of lazy. He settles back and tilts his head to consider his brother's wings.] Hmm... Come to think of it, you do neaten them a lot... Do they feel weird? [In general, but he jumps to add:] When they're all ruffled. Or dirty.

I can tell when the feathers are in the wrong places. [Which you'd think wouldn't bother him, considering his general attitudes toward messiness, but it does.] And water soaks in when I don't fix 'em. Then I drip all over the house after I take a shower and you get mad.

[Technically it's an oil redistribution thing that waterproofs the wings, amongst other things, but Sans has absolutely not done any research into bird wings and how they work.]

Because I can't fly over your puddles! [More sincerely indignant, but less so than usual, between the relaxation and a general sense of amusement from somewhere.] And water and human electronics don't mix! [Which is as baffling as it is deeply inconvenient. He has to unplug his phone when he's getting clean, unless he wants to damage it. Thankfully his own body's energy seems to convert to magical electricity...? Some of what he's learned about human electronics going into water is enough to give him nightmares.] I should just build something to help you dry off faster.

You could make a car wash, but for me. [A Sans wash. Put him on a conveyor belt. Sans has finished with Papyrus's shoulder, which means one arm is done, but...] Here, lemme get your other arm, too.

[And before Papyrus can do something reasonable like move, Sans just crawls across Papyrus to get to it. At least he shifts his wings out of the way so as not to whack Papyrus in the head with them. He is just kind of on Papyrus's lap now leaning across him.]

[Papyrus had indeed been thinking of standing to better switch sides, or maybe briefly turning to kneel backwards on the couch. Suddenly, wings are just barely not in his face. There's a lot of questions he could ask as his brother disregards personal space in the middle of the day - including, is Sans drunk? But thanks partly to self consciousness about how metal is even harder than bone, the one that comes out is:] Is-Is that even comfortable??

[...It sound silly as soon as he says it, but it's important to make sure Sans isn't hurting himself or wearing himself out. Enough that instead of pushing his brother off or interrogating him about the weird behavior first thing, Papyrus reaches for a throw pillow to offer.]

Huh? [It takes Sans a moment to realize what Papyrus is referring to. He pauses in his work on Papyrus's other elbow as his mind recognizes something is strange but without immediate reasoning as to why.]

Metal's not that much harder than bone. [Which isn't exactly true; Sans wears shorts and the metal is kind of digging into his legs a bit. But Papyrus seems self-conscious about it. Not that it's showing on his face, so Sans isn't sure where he's getting it from. He's not using his powers, is he? No, that's not it.]

Yes it is?? [Not by much, not compared to fur or flesh or whatnot. But bone's porous, and he's got plenty of experience these days how metal can scrape up bone - and not the other way around. But that's a memory he doesn't want to dwell on, so he grasps for:] Haven't you heard how much louder metal rattles?

[...It's almost a surprise he's not rattling right now, things are off. The maze was a good surprise, and the lingering sense of relaxation from wire neatening is more welcome than he expected. But his confusion with it all is building, especially with the unannounced speed of Sans's sprawling out...]

I guess, but... [Sans trails off, distracted from reassurance with just how confused he is. He is confused enough for multiple people, he thinks. And he's still on Papyrus's lap. Something in his mind finally connects, at least a little bit.]

Wait. Am I acting weird? [Only a little bit, obviously, if Sans has to ask. He backs off onto the couch again, at least, as he tries to take stock of himself.]

I mean, uh... [There's a surprising disappointment when Sans pulls away, so his confusion isn't fading - it's enough to disorient, making it hard to arrange his thoughts. Sans is asking, because Papyrus didn't say clearly enough. He's supposed to point out when Sans is being weird. They both are, it's an agreement. But he did already, didn't he?] Making the maze was weird, in a good way! This is, more weird. Helpful, and weird. And... I don't mind. But that's weird too... [He trails off, trying to think this out, unconsciously leaning a little towards his brother.]

[Making the maze was weird, but that was for Papyrus, so it's not that weird, right? Well, it's more work than he usually does. Crawling across Papyrus was weird, at least when it wasn't in the name of annoying him.] I probably should've just let you move to the other side of the couch. [That would have been more reasonable, probably. He reaches to touch Papyrus's arm again and feels a little less disoriented.]

That would be more normal for you. Letting me move around, instead of moving yourself... [Which, come to think of it, is of a piece with the maze. Sans doing things that take effort without thinking twice about it. He pats Sans's hand without thinking about it himself, and stands in such a way that they don't have to separate while he switches sides of the couch.]

You said it's like cleaning your wings... And, you're always weird about your wings. [Papyrus says this part like it's a reassurance, that that part's not a new weird thing. And there's a little emphasis on your, because somehow it was uncomfortable to even say 'the' about them anymore. Those are Sans's wings, they're part of him. Papyrus gets that now, somehow, and he didn't notice when that changed.]

[Sans starts working on Papyrus's other elbow as soon as he sits down again. This is an easier angle to work from, regardless of any weirdness that may or may not be happening.] That's just my regular brother weirdness. [It's a different category; they're his wings and he'll be as weird as he wants about them. He's already falling into complacency again, but he can at least try to follow the plot even if he's less alarmed about it.] Well, it's a holiday. Holidays get weird here sometimes. [Not always--October had been more of a month-long thing than anything directly associated with Halloween--but enough to notice a bit of a pattern.]

Hmmm... [To the claim of 'regular brother weirdness', Papyrus offers only a polite but clearly skeptical sound. Sans being so diligent about cleaning them, low effort and discomfort or not, is still weird for his brother! Laundry and making the bed are low effort too, and look how he does with that. Irregular brother weirdness is the best he'll offer.

But past that, as Sans starts theorizing, Papyrus mentally pulls up a digital calendar. Highlights the spans of time when they noticed oddness, and changes - even if only in retrospect. Sure enough, Sans was right. As he usually is, when he takes things seriously enough! His brother's reliable like that. Papyrus texts Sans a link to the digital calendar as he nods.] Holidays, or pre-holidays. And today's supposed to be a holiday about love...? [Romantic, friendly, and familial, they've already established. Halloween had ghosts, Thanksgiving bafflingly gave what he was thankful for away...]

And chocolate. [But yes, love is actually the point. Also, speaking of Sans and taking things seriously, he's gotten entirely distracted from worrying about if he's acting weird or not again. Papyrus's elbow is done, so now the shoulder and Papyrus will be all evened out.] And mazes. [No, not mazes.]

Are you fishing for more compliments about the maze?? [Incredulous but amused, Papyrus texts him again with an image of a valentine heart with a maze in it.] I've only seen one maze, in all the ads. You're wildly overestimating the maze quotient here. [It's hard to focus on worrying about any of this, but easy to razz his brother for trying to mess around. That's reassuring, too. Or maybe the reassurance is just the feeling of relaxation leaking around... Hard to pin anything down.]

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