spaghettimonster | Canyon: Inbox

I'm not really into fashion, but I'm sure you'll make something cool. [Saying Sans isn't into fashion is like saying Sans isn't into exercise, or like saying he is into union-mandated breaks. It should really go without saying.

With time and Papyrus's buoying, Sans is feeling less constantly overwhelmed by all his new eyes. He chances giving them a little bit of focus, looking more deliberately through them at himself and Papyrus and all the rest of the room at once. He's still looking out of his own eyes, of course, and the eyes in his halo. While Sans is starting to adjust, this may be a lot for Papyrus.]

[Well, Papyrus doesn't stagger or recoil the way he did when Sans teleported, partly because he's already sitting down. It's the difference between background electromagnet radiation, and trying to watch a few dozen streams at once. Maybe not overwhelming... but definitely whelming.

He lifts a hand slowly into the air, taking in the impressions of seeing it from nearly every angle at once. Trying to move or do anything with it like this, that starts pushing the edge on overwhelming, and he lowers it to better brace himself upright.]

...Okay, I think, I have... decided. [For one, that he won't complain about hearing microwaves and breakup calls as much from now on. But also...] That! You should have. Some nice decor, in here. To have good things to look at. Maybe some plants.

[Okay, maybe Sans will hold off on figuring out these new eyes until he's not connected to Papyrus anymore. He'll just let them return to being background noise. The thoughts about electromagnetic radiation and microwaves is interesting--Sans can, of course, imagine some entertainment and pranking opportunities to be gotten from hearing a bunch of people's phone calls. Plants, though...]

Like ones I have to water? [Imagine the effort required!]

[As the whelming pressure of sensory input fades, Papyrus finds himself feeling a disappointed curiosity, and unsure which of them it's coming from. There's something to be said for playing war games with every possible vantage point continuously ongoing, no need to move around the table - or have blind spots.

But the image of pranking people with, what, secret knowledge of private things? If he wants that, there's always that ghostly gift, that gives uncanny insight into some random person's thoughts... Not that it's turned up anyone he knew he recognized yet, but it might someday. And it's a more consistent feed than radio waves and whatnot, since there aren't thousands flickering in and out of strongest signal at any given point...]

Siiigh. Maybe some that barely need any. Or a sculpture. [Or a robot plant, though he's not sure what one would do that stands out from being a robot. Provide a light? That's a lamp. Point a laser at intruders? It'd be just their luck for something weird to make it shoot lasers at them instead.]

[Feelings are really starting to get blurry in Sans's head, though he can still separate things out by what he knows and what Papyrus knows. Still, that might be a bad thing... But he's comfortable like this. And he's curious about that ghost gift. He hasn't really seen Papyrus use it, but it's not like he's been keeping watch or anything. Sans teases Papyrus with the idea of putting all his electronics in a Faraday cage, but he (and therefore Papyrus) knows he's not going to do that. Too lazy. He'd forget. Anyway, it's not like Papyrus is putting trackers in his phone or anything.]

One plant. [Compromise.] A small one. Dunno what I'd do with a tree.

[Don't say "sit in it".]

Sleep under it, probably.

[Under isn't in, nyeh heh heh. The idea of a Faraday cage... is a little distressing to think about, like going to the edges of the Canyon can be. But maybe it'd be easier if it were no signal at all, instead of a few signals really sticking out...? (They probably shouldn't test it.)]

...But a tree, would be silly! Entirely too big for your room. Unless we did a lot of roof renovations... and figured out some way to keep rain from rotting the wood, because I guess rain does that.

[Some days, it's almost enough for a skeleton to miss living underground, where there's a constant slow trickle of snow and yet the ground is frozen enough not to make water damage a thing.]

No, something small. And that doesn't take watering much. There's plants like that. "Succulents..."

Big umbrella. [Sans would sleep under a tree, if it was placed in his room. Sometimes he takes naps under trees outside, too, though never too deeply when anyone could just wander right up to him.

Sans's thoughts of living underground exaggerate the darkness and the way they were enclosed. It matters more to him now than it ever did when he was actually underground, now that he's transformed, and the idea of being stuck without sunlight is--well, Sans doesn't want to call it frightening, because that's embarrassing. (But it is. It's frightening for him to think about, and he can't actually lie about that when Papyrus is in his head.)]

Aren't there succulents that look like butts?

[Sans is referring to lithops, not that he has any idea what they're actually called.]

[The idea of living underground again... It's a little bad just because of dying underground, while unable to escape. He's said as much to Kassabian, very casually amidst other things. But plenty of other bad things have happened in the canyon, equally inescapable, and those events haven't made the idea of living in a canyon something to dread in the same way. Not the way where there's some fear-pain of lacking something needed, the way the limited signals had pulsed painfully and he'd had trouble focusing.

It's not the same as the dark being frightening, but... Well, he hadn't ever been scared of that while awake, but he's sure had nightmares about darkness, so it kind of makes sense.

While those thoughts pass through his/their minds, he sends a search to SBNet. >SEARCH:SUCCULENTS LOOK LIKE BUTTS >IMAGES >SEARCH:LITHOPS >ALL, a search that shows a few photos connected to the concept, then a list of online encyclopedia descriptions of them, care-taking instructions, commenters cheerfully pointing out the resemblance, and so on.]

...Yeah, seems like! And, apparently, that makes them popular... Humans are weird.

[The fear of losing something needed is shared, even if it's not the same thing. For all Sans continues to claim he doesn't need sunlight and starlight, something in him does regardless of what Sans says.

The way Papyrus looks up the plant Sans mentioned is interesting; it's a very literal kind of multitasking. Asking about that would be weird, though, he thinks, so he'll just have to satisfy his curiosity with what he can get a look at like this.]

Humans are hilarious. [Humans are complicated, or at least Sans's thoughts on them are. He's always tended toward liking people, but the circumstances of the canyon make him warier. He's always a little worried about someone attacking him. Some of that is from what happened underground, but maybe not as much as Papyrus might expect. (After all, the anomaly wasn't--well, Sans isn't thinking about that.)] Let's get a butt plant.

[Weird realizing they're feeling similarly about different things. The more things change...?

He catches the inklings of curiosity in the middle of his search, and he pauses in the middle of reviewing caretaking instructions with example images of healthy vs unhealthy lithops. His edge of self-consciousness - that's been ongoing since coming into sight of halo and eyes - sharpens for a moment, before releasing like a laugh and shrug. How much of this can Sans even process, considering...? Is this mystery link between them more like screen-sharing, or outright remote access? He focuses on one of the images, curious if Sans can see it if enough of his attention is on it.]

Like this one?

[It's a particularly yellow-green example, with multiple lithops in the pot, two of which have white flowers. Not exactly realistic. But he's noticed the inklings of wariness and worry with the thought of humans, beyond the curiosity. They're harder harder to follow, the way Sans shoves part of the thoughts aside. At least mocking them by having a butt plant is something.]

[It's not like seeing the image himself; rather, it's filtered through Papyrus's perception of the image. He gets an impression of yellow-green. Something white--flowers, which Sans's can't see but figures out from how Papyrus is thinking about it.]

I can't see it like if I was looking at it. [But Sans can answer the question of how much of this Sans can process even if Papyrus didn't technically ask it.] But yeah, I think so.

[But Sans is connected deeply enough to Papyrus's thoughts to make some deductions and conclusions based on these impressions, apparently.]

Weird! I can... sort of see us. [A few minutes ago he could see his hand, from far more directions than he knew what to do with, when he focused on doing so. But it hadn't been focused right, but a bit of strain to make sense of... Maybe because Sans wasn't focused on Papyrus's hand? The lack of attention - of intent - made a difference.

That, or:] I guess one mental image isn't as powerful, as hundreds of them??

[He prods at the sensation of seeing in all directions, expecting Sans to follow along with the idea. What if Sans tries looking again, with Papyrus braced and expectant for it? He wants to study his own reactions, make an experiment of it. (Is that normal for Papyrus?)]

I do have a lot of images to work with. [Sans is picking up on Papyrus's idea, though, so he shifts just a little so he can get as many eyelights on Papyrus as possible. It's good practice for his own new eyelights, anyway, to actually try to look at something. The new ones around Sans's room are less well-behaved, more interested in looking at whatever they want, but Sans can get most of them focused.

Whether or not this sort of multi-perspective of himself is useful, it does help Sans. He's had enough time getting multiple viewpoints of whatever thing he's focusing on that this is much easier to work with than looking at a whole room from wildly different angles.]

[Well, Papyrus's own face is a much cooler and agreeable target for staring at than his own hand. His cheekbones shift up in a surprised smile.]

Hey, good choice! Papyrus, natural model.

[Despite all his time in front of camera and mirror, he's aware of the proportions of his own face to an extent he's never mapped out before. Maybe he should make a sculpture! Or a cast model of it, the better to design possible replacement parts... like in case he ever figures out a safe way to attach a new lower jaw.]

You're the coolest thing in the room. [It just makes sense to use Papyrus. But it does seem like Papyrus is getting more vision information from Sans than vice versa. Maybe it really is because Sans has so many eyes. As far as attaching something to Papyrus's face... Idly, Sans suggests that icing they use to stick gingerbread houses together. (But not really.)]

It's a terrible burden I bear. [Papyrus says this laughingly, of course. There's undercurrents of sincerity to it, tinged with frustration and desperation. Needing to be admired and wanted, to fill some loneliness. Needing to be there as a role model, to prevent a different loneliness.

Fortunately, the stray thought of frosting on his face distracts him from that, and he grimaces.]

And you went that long without being gross! I'm resetting the timer. [There is an actual timer. He's actually resetting it. (It had only been about eight hours since the last thing Papyrus considered gross enough to count).]

[Every thought in Sans's head vanishes, replaced with the sheer delight of he has an actual timer. And so, has Papyrus considered chewing gum? Syrup? Chewed up fruit roll ups?]

Oh my god. [Papyrus should have expected this, didn't quite expect it, and is kicking himself in a way that's angled to try to also kick his brother. Especially with this focus on using chewed food as the adhesive - has Sans considered that all of those things are part of what the jaw is for, not made of?? Papyrus is still drastically missing out his food chewing experience quotient, here!

He's halfway to wanting to leave this conversation, or at least walk away long enough to properly act out his response to the harassment, and his balance on the bed wobbles as a hand gives way. Through the bed, intangibly.]

[Uh. Well, that's one way to stop Sans from thinking gross food thoughts. Sans grabs onto Papyrus to try and balance him even though Papyrus is both taller and heavier. It requires a bit of wing flapping.] Did your hand just go through the bed?

Uhhhhh... [Papyrus shifts his weight within himself with Sans's added support, and tests that hand on the bed again. Through it, again. It feels like there's nothing but air there, as if the blanket is a hologram. It's alarming in a way he'd like to get away from, and the continued escapist feeling does nothing for restoring his hand to tangibility.] It. Seems like it??

Okay. Well. [That's one of his powers that Papyrus has picked up, then. So maybe it works the same way?] You've gotta focus on something solid that's familiar. [Good thing they're in the house, that's about as familiar as you can get in San Benedicto. Of course, Papyrus is the easiest focus for Sans, but that's embarrassing and--and Papyrus can hear his thoughts so now Papyrus knows that too. Extra embarrassing.]

Ny-yeh heh heh, I knew I was... A grounding influence for you! [Maybe not so literally that he's a focus for un-ghosting, but that's fine! Good to know he's valued! But sitting here talking with Sans isn't the same kind of grounding for him, maybe because his brother is always teleporting off for pranks and secrecy - it's an almost-accusation he'd take back if it weren't a little true too. Embarrassing and less kind than he wants to be! Don't notice these thoughts, and he'll agree not to notice the others, except for all the noticing they can't help doing.

He shakes his head, leaning a little harder against Sans as if to spite the train of thought, and tries to think. Something solid, and familiar. Not his own body, not this room of eyes and mess. Something material, from back underground...? Maybe they should go hang out on Papyrus's cool bed instead, or meditate on his battle body.]

[Sans will try not to notice those thoughts, at least more than he already noticed them. If nothing else he will do his best not to comment. (Anyway, it's not really news that Sans is unreliable. Wait, he said he wouldn't think about this.)]

So, your room, then? [It doesn't occur to him to not include himself in the "try stuff in Papyrus's room for grounding purposes" idea. But that's reasonable enough to explain as Sans being the one who had the intangibility powers to begin with, and--] Uh, it's probably bad that the sharing things thing is getting worse.

[That's an extremely belated thought, right there.]

[The sudden, dream-instigated increase in things like too many eyes (or at least many eyes, he's not insulting the eyes), or metallic body part replacements, or weirdly visible souls, or intangibility... It's not a great thing. But the worst thing about this situation has to be his brother hearing the thoughts that Papyrus doesn't want voiced - partly precisely for fear of needlessly hurting Sans's feelings - and feeling that muted self-denigration about it. The very outcome he didn't want, and so didn't say the thing, because it's only as true as Sans thinks and acts like it is!

He grumbles and scrubs at his face with his hands... well, no with one hand and the casing of one wrist, as his intangible hand goes through his skull. It's not enough pressure to scratch badly, just alarm him. Right, they're getting up and heading to his room instead.

It briefly occurs to him as he stands - because it occurs to Sans? - that he doesn't really question his brother coming along for it. Of course Sans is welcome to go with, it's uncomfortable being apart right now. They've been trying to keep to their own habits, because it's important to be able to when they have to, and every skeleton deserves privacy... But there's a time and place for that strain, and when things are actively getting more alarming and disorienting isn't really it. There's no sense making themselves especially miserable or alone. There's a little bit of a take that to Sans's not-thoughts of unreliability, as Papyrus actively pushes himself to think something that won't get him dwelling on the sense of helplessness in the face of the latest weirdness.]

W-Well... Yeah, probably! But... [The helplessness feeling is still very much present, as he struggles to think what to do about it. The one upside of the leech thing was that he was never indecisive. The downsides were more than he could count, of course, between the violent positivity and... everything. But it's hard to think what to do, proactively, about any of this. They haven't even figured out what's causing it.]

[With Papyrus indecisive, Sans finds it difficult to maintain the levels of wariness necessary to resist sticking close to Papyrus. Anyway, he wasn't wrong that intangibility is his power; Sans is the one who knows how it works. Letting Papyrus go try to figure it out on his own would be dumb. Sans stands up, too.]

Well, I should probably keep helpin' out with your hand problem anyway. And I guess I should practice walking around with these eyes in the room. [Will he be able to see his room as clearly as he does now when he's in Papyrus's? That's going to be weird.] Unless you want a shortcut.

[Sans knows Papyrus would think a shortcut that short would be ridiculous, which is why he offered.]

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i've decided on a way to accelerate this situation w/ powers

good idea

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