[Sans has already been feeling a constant, pounding headache and nausea and a general sense of wrongness about everything when he watches Mysterio flake away with rust and distortion, ending with an explosion in case anyone might have thought that was something you survive. Sans has enough eyes in the house to know he saw Papyrus go into his workshop even if he doesn't have eyes inside, and wanting to check on Papyrus is nearly the same thing as checking on him.
A glowing emptiness tears open the space above the empty shelf, a void of light that pops as it displaces the air much like Sans's normal teleport might, before Sans is there, with too many wings that don't seem entirely committed to any one place on his body. Landing on the shelf is more of a polite nod to physics than something absolutely necessary, as Sans isn't thinking at all about how Papyrus might interpret his arrival in favor of his own concerns about making sure Papyrus isn't a melted, rusting mess on the ground somewhere.]
Papyrus? [Sans's voice is mostly the same, except it doesn't seem any more committed to coming from the right place in Sans's body than the wings are committed to attaching correctly.]
[Well. Two out of three isn't great, when it comes to things one is hoping aren't the case. Papyrus isn't sitting in the chair at his desk with all the PC towers and external hard drive, or at the station where he tends to tinker with his latest arm designs. He is, instead, a mess on the ground near the desk, with the assistant arm whirring beside him. His legs are detached, the foot of one of them disassembled with a few random wheels and a broken drone around it. There are specks and small streaks of rust on him, including the detached legs.
But there's no signs of melting, and the digital static sounds he offers as he looks up at Sans's question are a blend of static and the hissing of an "s" sound in Sans's own voice, not pained screams. He offers a brief wave, though his face twists up in annoyance at the sight of all Sans's wings and his own hand.]
[Sans lays a few of several eyes on Papyrus and his mind stutters to a halt. The most comprehensible thing that happens with Sans's body is that his soul starts glowing bright enough to be seen through his shirt and hoodie both, and that soul starts oozing light like thick syrup all over the shelf. But it doesn't leave a mess. It's warm but it's not solid, just light even if it's dripping onto the table beneath. He glows like he's trying to compete with that fire Papyrus started earlier before he abstracts entirely into a suggestion of eyes and wings and shapes, not particles but waveforms, favoring rounded curves and non-Euclidean loops. It doesn't last long; he puts his thoughts back together and realizes that the mechanical arm is working, that Papyrus's staticky hissing is directed and not pained, that Papyrus is waving at him, and he re-forms.]
Oh, uh. I guess I walked in on something? [Sans sounds strained. His voice is coming from the wrong direction entirely.]
[His eyes focus and refocus as his brother's body starts oozing light. Bright, but he can compensate for that, far more easily now that he knows to brace for it from the typing. Abstract, which is... It's refreshing, even comforting to see. A far cry from the sight of Mysterio's uncomfortably relevant collapse, and it's almost a shame when Sans reforms.]
...Something, I guess. [Papyrus tilts his head as the he forms the words - clearly coming from him, and equally clearly a recorded version of Sans's voice, spliced on the fly for an answer.] No walk-ing.
[The word "no" sounds reversed, and there's a slight choppiness between the other syllables. But he gives a brief burst of static like it's meant to be a laugh. It's a little bit a pun for poking at his brother for teleporting in and hovering in a quantum distortion way, and a little bit pun for his in-process renovations. (Not to mention a mental exercise to distract him from that video, and a lot bit attempt to un-shake Sans enough for conversation.)]
Edited (emphasizing the voice weirdness) 2022-03-11 09:14 (UTC)
[It's weird to hear his own voice parroted back at him like that. Sans oozes off the shelf to the floor in much the same way he was dripping light. His own laugh is a little too sharp, a little too close to actual upset, and his soul starts glowing bright enough to be seen again. Everything feels wrong. Some things are just one or two steps off, some have stepped right off a cliff. He wraps his wings around himself like he's trying to keep the glow inside. It makes him feel better.]
Yeah, you know me, I don't walk unless it's an emergency. Did you turn off your voice box or somethin'? [That can't be exactly it if Papyrus is able to repeat what Sans is saying, but it's not as if Papyrus had a voice box to begin with, so some metaphor can be excused. Sans pulls out his phone.] Can you type?
[Watching Sans emote and move those wings around churns up a fresh wave of disgust, and Papyrus focuses his eyes back to the tools and supplies around him. Why couldn't his brother have stayed loops, or even oozing light?]
\E3YES OF COURSE,&MY PHONE'S WORKING./
[Which is... a question, if it'll continue, if the spreading rust starts to hit him as quickly. He feels shoulders hunch up in discomfort that just doubles as his attention's drawn to his continued humanoid shape. Why did that video have to go out and distract him so early into this?]
\E3VOICE JUST STOPPED,&LOW PRIORITY REPAIR.&I'LL FIX IT LATER./
[Low compared to getting a better method of locomotion designed, and it's such a shame he spent so long on trying to better imitate human limbs instead of exploring. Why couldn't he build himself the means for helicopter-style flight, except insecurity about the shape of his body? Now he's starting from nearly scratch in the distessing body.]
[Sans doesn't like Papyrus looking at him like that, either--like he's something upsetting. He's not used to Papyrus of all people looking at him like that. If Sans glows more, he doesn't have to think about it as much. He's dripping light from underneath his hoodie again.]
I'd give you a hand, but you've got the cool robot one. [Sans looks at the streaks of rust on Papyrus's legs and wonders if the insides are worse. If you don't replace a whole piece once rust sets in, the whole chunk of metal can just get eaten away.] Lots of stuff's messing up today. Everything feels messed up. [Which he mentioned before, when he was texting Papyrus, but now the jitter in Sans's tone is obvious. That's why he didn't just switch to voice when Papyrus got annoyed by the light: he can't quite manage to keep himself collected.]
[Ugh, hands. Don't remind him of fingers, Sans. He keeps considering how to remove them, except then how would he continue his repairs? And it's clear that this alone is enough to distress his brother, and he's promised to give warning about big redesigns, hasn't he...? It's hard to focus on things like that. He glances briefly up at the jitter in his brother's voice, then away as his shoulders hunch at the wave of revulsion at the sight of wings and eyes and such.]
You've got-- messed up..? [It's easy to fragment and replay the last things he's heard, at least. But he doesn't know how to adjust them to get the right tones of voice, how to aim for suspicious and concerned, barely managing a questioning tilt on the end. So he shakes his head (ugh) and switches back to texting.]
\E5WHY ARE YOU DRIPPING?&ARE YOU INJURED&UNDER ALL THOSE WINGS?/
[...Okay, a little more accusatory and grossed out than he intended to sound there. But it gets the important thing across. If Sans isn't addressing an injury, and that's why he's leaking light all over, even in the network... Dead or not, rusting and breaking and dying all over, he doesn't want his brother gone.]
No, uh--the light makes things feel a little better. For me, anyway, heh, I'm guessin' you're not getting much besides a light show. [Sans opens his wings to prove he's not hurt. The outline of his soul is still visible through his clothes; while Sans seems to be maintaining his usual torso shape, there's no indication that the light is being obstructed by bones right now. Sans may not actually have a physical torso right this second.]
It'd be better if I wasn't--if we both weren't stuck in this canyon. [Sans still sounds jittery, but that was a little distant and a lot thoughtful because he's talking about more than just the obvious downsides of being trapped in horror canyon.]
[Papyrus nods slow confirmation at the question of light shows, though he shoots the puddle of light a skeptical look. If Sans says it's not an injury, he guesses he'll accept that, but it doesn't look great. Weren't Sans's bones full of that... stuff... He stares at his brother's bafflingly boneless torso, the general silhouette of light. Not very much in the way of bones to him anymore, either. Light and electricity aren't that different in some ways, are they...?]
\E5NO KIDDING^1.&IF YOU FIND A WAY&OUT, I EXPECT A LIFT./
[He's always been included in the space obsession stuff whether he likes it or not, so this better not be the time Sans starts leaving him out.]
Carrying you's gonna be pretty hard. Add "flying wagon" to your to-do list. [Sans is joking around about the difficulty, but that's not a no. Sans won't leave Papyrus behind. In fact, even though he's joking, some of Sans's gaze drifts to a piece of scrap metal. He reaches out to it--should probably have asked first, but he's a bit distracted--and as soon as he settles his hand on it the metal abstracts into intangible light and heat. Leftover molecules clatter audibly to the ground like marbles. Even freed into this sort of form, it holds the shape it used to be. It's now a very strange, intangible lamp.]
\E3WE ALREADY TRIED&UP, MAYBE FLYING'S&NOT THE ANSWER./
[He sends that text around the time that Sans grabs some piece of scrap, if grab is the word for whatever's going on. If Papyrus looked skeptical at the puddle of liquid, he's outright alarmed by this sight, emitting static as he scrapes backwards in the clumsy way of having briefly forgotten his incomplete state. Is that glowing lump reminiscent of Sans's seemingly boneless silhouette?]
[It is similar to Sans's torso situation, yes. Papyrus's alarm draws Sans's attention, though, and he raises his hands in a placating sort of gesture, like turning metal into light is normal.]
Figured I'd test somethin' real quick. You weren't using that, right? [As if that's the issue here.]
[Papyrus directs the assistant arm to help steady him as he leans a little forward, eyes focusing to zoom in on the light. So that's a thing Sans can do now, he concludes on some level, no point buying more lamps or glow-in-the-dark anything.]
E5WHAT ARE YOU&TESTING, AND WHY&ON MY SUPPLIES??
[Is this a test for trying to transform, to enlighten Papyrus in some way?? He knows he was implying about making everyone and everything into machinery, an idea that seemed a lot better before Mysterio's collapse but even now still seems good, but being some ghostly light...]
Figuring out my options. Doing that to myself's a little different from doing that to something else. [Though not as different as Sans thought it might be. Maybe because when you get down small enough, everything's made of the same things. It's just a matter of configuration.] You're right, we can't really fly out.
[Which may or may not sound ominous, depending on what conclusions Papyrus is coming to here. The metal is back to normal. In fact, Papyrus now has a dual memory of the scrap metal having turned to light and the scrap metal having never been touched by Sans at all. This is because Sans just used an earlier version of himself to decide not to do the experiment. He's got the information, Papyrus might want to use that metal later for non-lamp-related activities.]
[Ominous on some levels, certainly. Mostly baffling. Papyrus hasn't yet reached the point of coming to conclusions, here. He stares at the non-glowing metal scrap like he doesn't know what to make of it, mainly because he doesn't know what to make of it. It's the starkest, clearest example of deja vu he's ever had, and that with befriending the flower and encountering that dusty human.]
\E5I. 409.&MEMORY ERRORS./
[Wait, he didn't mean to say that. And he can't just delete it and pretend he sent nothing, with Sans watching the screen so badly. And he hesitates to ask whether the metal had been glowing, or if that was some weird glitching in his memory... Something tangential.]
For getting away, maybe. [Which is a little different from getting out, but seems like something that might be within Sans's reach. But rather than elaborating on that, he looks at Papyrus, no longer distant, just Papyrus's brother again.] Dunno yet. You okay? Relatively. [Because Sans did indeed see that memory error thing, and he doesn't think to connect it to how he put the scrap metal back. Anyway, Papyrus is the one in this room who is in pieces and being a little alarming, with the fire and the weird disgust for grass and bones. Sans is fine, except for the headache and having to feel how messed up everything is.]
[He considers lying, considers options for pushing his brother to take those wings and eyes and leave. But the eyes are part of the problem, Sans can probably see that he thought about lying on his face somehow. Truth, or at least some truth. It's not partial truth, it's just who has the time to be completely honest, even ignoring a robot's right to privacy?
Papyrus doesn't dwell on how his self-designation has, finally, shed nonsense like 'cyborg' or even the blatantly untrue 'skeleton'. He needs to redesign so he's not an imitation lifeform, but embracing his potential. So he's not recoiling from the sight of reflections. And if he changes his mind later, well, he'll leave the skull undamaged, and focus on all the rest of him first.]
\E5...NO. I NEED&REPAIRS, REDESIGN^1.&CAN'T STAND MY FEET./
[It is a little bit a pun, familiar lifeline of wordplay. A little bit volley for testing Sans's reaction, because he's only noticing how distant his brother's voice had gotten now that it's back to normal. They weren't even talking about space, he hadn't expected... And even though they're not on the roof, he can't easily leave if Sans decides to make him glow. (Can Sans make things glow? He did, but he didn't...? Memory error.)]
[When Sans thinks of redesigns, his mind goes to the time Papyrus decided to start carving up his skull before it goes to the various flame-and-muscle-themed limbs Papyrus is also working on. His expression tightens a little, but it's not really fair to jump to the worst option. Papyrus let him take the knife, which means he knew Sans might be concerned, which means he knew that whole incident wasn't exactly normal. (Plenty of other ways to do damage to a skull besides a knife, though. Sans can't confiscate the whole workshop. Wouldn't, with Papyrus rusting again.)
When it comes to wordplay and "I can't stand my feet", Sans barely stops himself from replying "can't, or don't want to?" Why start a fight? It'd lead to the same conclusion--Papyrus will need to make himself something else to stand on regardless. And it's Papyrus's decision.
Sans sends a version of him from a later time to gather up Papyrus's extra, more skeleton-shaped limbs. From the future because he needs to pick a time when Papyrus isn't in the workshop, and if he picks a time in the past Papyrus will probably complain about them suddenly vanishing and assume Sans did something.]
So instead of a hand, you need a foot. [Or... Whatever.] You already got the supplies?
[He's not sure if Papyrus gathered up everything and deliberately took his legs off or if it was a matter of the rust making them unworkable before he could get things together.]
[Future Sans will get to gather up two skeleton-shaped legs (one with a particularly rusted ankle decoration), a few versions of the more muscular skeleton-shaped arms, and at least one skeleton-shaped hand. They'll all feature signs of rusting on and inside them, the hand most of all.
In the present, Papyrus rolls his eyes at Sans's pun volleying, and makes a face at the misunderstanding displayed by asking it.]
\E3NO FEET AT ALL,&I'M UPGRADING TO WHEELS&BEFORE MY LICENSE./
[As to supplies, that's a harder answer to offer. The metal in the pile on the floor isn't only his partly-disassembled leg and its partner, but a collection of spare parts gathered from dump runs and other disassembled machinery. Wheels of varying sizes, including some small enough to be parts of roller blades. There are, in fact, a couple roller blades on the floor. But it's more the kind of pile of whatever he had on hand, rather than something he's gone into with a particular blueprint in mind.]
[Future Sans will try to hit these various limbs with some WD-40.
Wheels as feet... Sans's first thought is permanent Heelys, of course, but Papyrus doesn't even seem to like feet being used as shorthand, so he'll have to save that for later.]
No laws about cruisin' around if the wheels are attached, huh? [It's an Air Bud situation.] If you need extra parts, I can grab 'em. [He has plenty of limbs to do it with.]
[Whatever part of Sans's room the WD-40 gets used in will gain a fresh coating of rust dust. Not the same as bone dust, but probably still not great as a visual for monsters to look at. Papyrus hasn't been enjoying the sight, not with how it leaves him in a state of perpetually reliving his death.]
\E2LEGALLY A SCOOTER,&OR MAYBE A&COOL MOTORCYCLE./
[Okay, maybe not a motorcycle, as those need a driving license too. But self-driving and sentient motor vehicles probably don't need licenses to get around. It's some kind of Air Bud situation for sure.]
E4I'LL NEED LOTS./NO TIME LIKE THE&PRESENT FOR&FULL BODY TUNEUPS./
[Sans does not like this rust dust but that will not stop him from WD-40ing these limbs. If he doesn't think about it it's fine.
Now, Sans could, like a normal person might, ask Papyrus which parts he needs for this right now. Or, and this is much more efficient which is kind of what Papyrus is going for right now, he could reference a future self who already knows what Papyrus needs for this and then send some past selves to get it and drop it off outside while they're having this conversation.]
Okay, don't go anywhere. [And Sans teleports off without apparently asking Papyrus anything (but there's a double memory, happening right now, where he did) before reappearing a moment later with stuff in--well, not hand. Stuff in pile on floor.]
[Again, he remembers Sans doing something, but then there's no record of Sans having actually done it. He stares at the non-glowing metal lump some more like it has answers, before shifting the stare to the new floor pile.]
\E5UHH^1.&MEMORY ERROR?/
[Is he just hallucinating? Has Sans learned some long-distance mind projecting&reading power where, instead of making Papyrus feel intense emotions, he simulates a conversation about the size and shape of replacement parts...? Because on one level he sees the pile of stuff, but on another he hears Sans continuing to ask questions. Papyrus's face furrows with suspicion and fear before he realizes it, then switches to a more general frown.]
Doing what? Memory errors? [That's the second time Papyrus has mentioned one. But, finally--mostly because his other self is still in the process of getting the information about what Papyrus needs--Sans catches on.]
Oh. Huh, I guess I didn't think about how that'd work with your memory. [Didn't think about it at all, really; spreading himself out like this feels natural. Safer than sticking to one place.] There was a future--present now--where I asked you what you needed, so I just grabbed the info from there and skipped out on asking this time. It's faster.
[Reasonable. Normal. Sans definitely won't be horrified later.]
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spaghettimonster) wrote2021-07-31 02:32 am
basically immediately after mysterio's death
A glowing emptiness tears open the space above the empty shelf, a void of light that pops as it displaces the air much like Sans's normal teleport might, before Sans is there, with too many wings that don't seem entirely committed to any one place on his body. Landing on the shelf is more of a polite nod to physics than something absolutely necessary, as Sans isn't thinking at all about how Papyrus might interpret his arrival in favor of his own concerns about making sure Papyrus isn't a melted, rusting mess on the ground somewhere.]
Papyrus? [Sans's voice is mostly the same, except it doesn't seem any more committed to coming from the right place in Sans's body than the wings are committed to attaching correctly.]
who needs dialogue in a tag right
But there's no signs of melting, and the digital static sounds he offers as he looks up at Sans's question are a blend of static and the hissing of an "s" sound in Sans's own voice, not pained screams. He offers a brief wave, though his face twists up in annoyance at the sight of all Sans's wings and his own hand.]
nobody needs to make sense in this thread
Oh, uh. I guess I walked in on something? [Sans sounds strained. His voice is coming from the wrong direction entirely.]
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...Something, I guess. [Papyrus tilts his head as the he forms the words - clearly coming from him, and equally clearly a recorded version of Sans's voice, spliced on the fly for an answer.] No walk-ing.
[The word "no" sounds reversed, and there's a slight choppiness between the other syllables. But he gives a brief burst of static like it's meant to be a laugh. It's a little bit a pun for poking at his brother for teleporting in and hovering in a quantum distortion way, and a little bit pun for his in-process renovations. (Not to mention a mental exercise to distract him from that video, and a lot bit attempt to un-shake Sans enough for conversation.)]
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Yeah, you know me, I don't walk unless it's an emergency. Did you turn off your voice box or somethin'? [That can't be exactly it if Papyrus is able to repeat what Sans is saying, but it's not as if Papyrus had a voice box to begin with, so some metaphor can be excused. Sans pulls out his phone.] Can you type?
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\E3YES OF COURSE,&MY PHONE'S WORKING./
[Which is... a question, if it'll continue, if the spreading rust starts to hit him as quickly. He feels shoulders hunch up in discomfort that just doubles as his attention's drawn to his continued humanoid shape. Why did that video have to go out and distract him so early into this?]
\E3VOICE JUST STOPPED,&LOW PRIORITY REPAIR.&I'LL FIX IT LATER./
[Low compared to getting a better method of locomotion designed, and it's such a shame he spent so long on trying to better imitate human limbs instead of exploring. Why couldn't he build himself the means for helicopter-style flight, except insecurity about the shape of his body? Now he's starting from nearly scratch in the distessing body.]
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I'd give you a hand, but you've got the cool robot one. [Sans looks at the streaks of rust on Papyrus's legs and wonders if the insides are worse. If you don't replace a whole piece once rust sets in, the whole chunk of metal can just get eaten away.] Lots of stuff's messing up today. Everything feels messed up. [Which he mentioned before, when he was texting Papyrus, but now the jitter in Sans's tone is obvious. That's why he didn't just switch to voice when Papyrus got annoyed by the light: he can't quite manage to keep himself collected.]
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You've got-- messed up..? [It's easy to fragment and replay the last things he's heard, at least. But he doesn't know how to adjust them to get the right tones of voice, how to aim for suspicious and concerned, barely managing a questioning tilt on the end. So he shakes his head (ugh) and switches back to texting.]
\E5WHY ARE YOU DRIPPING?&ARE YOU INJURED&UNDER ALL THOSE WINGS?/
[...Okay, a little more accusatory and grossed out than he intended to sound there. But it gets the important thing across. If Sans isn't addressing an injury, and that's why he's leaking light all over, even in the network... Dead or not, rusting and breaking and dying all over, he doesn't want his brother gone.]
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It'd be better if I wasn't--if we both weren't stuck in this canyon. [Sans still sounds jittery, but that was a little distant and a lot thoughtful because he's talking about more than just the obvious downsides of being trapped in horror canyon.]
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\E5NO KIDDING^1.&IF YOU FIND A WAY&OUT, I EXPECT A LIFT./
[He's always been included in the space obsession stuff whether he likes it or not, so this better not be the time Sans starts leaving him out.]
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[He sends that text around the time that Sans grabs some piece of scrap, if grab is the word for whatever's going on. If Papyrus looked skeptical at the puddle of liquid, he's outright alarmed by this sight, emitting static as he scrapes backwards in the clumsy way of having briefly forgotten his incomplete state. Is that glowing lump reminiscent of Sans's seemingly boneless silhouette?]
WHAT?/NO WAIT, WHAT??/
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Figured I'd test somethin' real quick. You weren't using that, right? [As if that's the issue here.]
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[Papyrus directs the assistant arm to help steady him as he leans a little forward, eyes focusing to zoom in on the light. So that's a thing Sans can do now, he concludes on some level, no point buying more lamps or glow-in-the-dark anything.]
E5WHAT ARE YOU&TESTING, AND WHY&ON MY SUPPLIES??
[Is this a test for trying to transform, to enlighten Papyrus in some way?? He knows he was implying about making everyone and everything into machinery, an idea that seemed a lot better before Mysterio's collapse but even now still seems good, but being some ghostly light...]
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[Which may or may not sound ominous, depending on what conclusions Papyrus is coming to here. The metal is back to normal. In fact, Papyrus now has a dual memory of the scrap metal having turned to light and the scrap metal having never been touched by Sans at all. This is because Sans just used an earlier version of himself to decide not to do the experiment. He's got the information, Papyrus might want to use that metal later for non-lamp-related activities.]
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\E5I. 409.&MEMORY ERRORS./
[Wait, he didn't mean to say that. And he can't just delete it and pretend he sent nothing, with Sans watching the screen so badly. And he hesitates to ask whether the metal had been glowing, or if that was some weird glitching in his memory... Something tangential.]
E5IS THAT SOMEHOW&AN OPTION FOR&NOT FLYING OUT?/
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Papyrus doesn't dwell on how his self-designation has, finally, shed nonsense like 'cyborg' or even the blatantly untrue 'skeleton'. He needs to redesign so he's not an imitation lifeform, but embracing his potential. So he's not recoiling from the sight of reflections. And if he changes his mind later, well, he'll leave the skull undamaged, and focus on all the rest of him first.]
\E5...NO. I NEED&REPAIRS, REDESIGN^1.&CAN'T STAND MY FEET./
[It is a little bit a pun, familiar lifeline of wordplay. A little bit volley for testing Sans's reaction, because he's only noticing how distant his brother's voice had gotten now that it's back to normal. They weren't even talking about space, he hadn't expected... And even though they're not on the roof, he can't easily leave if Sans decides to make him glow. (Can Sans make things glow? He did, but he didn't...? Memory error.)]
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When it comes to wordplay and "I can't stand my feet", Sans barely stops himself from replying "can't, or don't want to?" Why start a fight? It'd lead to the same conclusion--Papyrus will need to make himself something else to stand on regardless. And it's Papyrus's decision.
Sans sends a version of him from a later time to gather up Papyrus's extra, more skeleton-shaped limbs. From the future because he needs to pick a time when Papyrus isn't in the workshop, and if he picks a time in the past Papyrus will probably complain about them suddenly vanishing and assume Sans did something.]
So instead of a hand, you need a foot. [Or... Whatever.] You already got the supplies?
[He's not sure if Papyrus gathered up everything and deliberately took his legs off or if it was a matter of the rust making them unworkable before he could get things together.]
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In the present, Papyrus rolls his eyes at Sans's pun volleying, and makes a face at the misunderstanding displayed by asking it.]
\E3NO FEET AT ALL,&I'M UPGRADING TO WHEELS&BEFORE MY LICENSE./
[As to supplies, that's a harder answer to offer. The metal in the pile on the floor isn't only his partly-disassembled leg and its partner, but a collection of spare parts gathered from dump runs and other disassembled machinery. Wheels of varying sizes, including some small enough to be parts of roller blades. There are, in fact, a couple roller blades on the floor. But it's more the kind of pile of whatever he had on hand, rather than something he's gone into with a particular blueprint in mind.]
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Wheels as feet... Sans's first thought is permanent Heelys, of course, but Papyrus doesn't even seem to like feet being used as shorthand, so he'll have to save that for later.]
No laws about cruisin' around if the wheels are attached, huh? [It's an Air Bud situation.] If you need extra parts, I can grab 'em. [He has plenty of limbs to do it with.]
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\E2LEGALLY A SCOOTER,&OR MAYBE A&COOL MOTORCYCLE./
[Okay, maybe not a motorcycle, as those need a driving license too. But self-driving and sentient motor vehicles probably don't need licenses to get around. It's some kind of Air Bud situation for sure.]
E4I'LL NEED LOTS./NO TIME LIKE THE&PRESENT FOR&FULL BODY TUNEUPS./
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Now, Sans could, like a normal person might, ask Papyrus which parts he needs for this right now. Or, and this is much more efficient which is kind of what Papyrus is going for right now, he could reference a future self who already knows what Papyrus needs for this and then send some past selves to get it and drop it off outside while they're having this conversation.]
Okay, don't go anywhere. [And Sans teleports off without apparently asking Papyrus anything (but there's a double memory, happening right now, where he did) before reappearing a moment later with stuff in--well, not hand. Stuff in pile on floor.]
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\E5UHH^1.&MEMORY ERROR?/
[Is he just hallucinating? Has Sans learned some long-distance mind projecting&reading power where, instead of making Papyrus feel intense emotions, he simulates a conversation about the size and shape of replacement parts...? Because on one level he sees the pile of stuff, but on another he hears Sans continuing to ask questions. Papyrus's face furrows with suspicion and fear before he realizes it, then switches to a more general frown.]
\E3SANS. BE HONEST^1.ARE YOU DOING&THAT?/
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Oh. Huh, I guess I didn't think about how that'd work with your memory. [Didn't think about it at all, really; spreading himself out like this feels natural. Safer than sticking to one place.] There was a future--present now--where I asked you what you needed, so I just grabbed the info from there and skipped out on asking this time. It's faster.
[Reasonable. Normal. Sans definitely won't be horrified later.]
another instance for the 'fuck magic' pile of robot thoughts
whoops
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