[Papyrus goes from confused frown to alarm to comprehension in 0.93 seconds.] Oh, you're super voiding again.
[But in a scared and pained kind of way, rather than getting all analytical or philosophical, let alone aggressive in getting rid of intrusive sounds... No, wait.]
And upset about sounds, again. [Is the problem partly that Sans can't get rid of the sounds, here? It's not like he can attack his own soul to get rid of the whispers - well, hopefully not, and that's not an idea that Papyrus is letting leave his skull. But he grinds his teeth for 0.34 seconds, then tries a hopefully less dangerous suggestion.] Would... I don't want to suggest this, because I don't know what you'll do with it. But, in case it helps, and because I'm a helpful brother who cares: would going all intangible help any?
[Sans vanishes. There's a stretch of nothing. Then, the flickering impossibility of one of Sans's extra arms appears, lays itself over top of Sans's cell phone, and it and the phone vanish.
A moment later, a text from Sans.]
this is better
[Not perfect, but better. He'd rather not have the phone with him, but somewhere in his mind he still recognizes Papyrus. Papyrus is important, and the way they are here, Sans can't talk to Papyrus without the phone if he's intangible. A compromise.]
Edited (oops forgot the font) 2022-10-12 20:56 (UTC)
[Might be, more like, but nobody needs that kind of accuracy here. This is a bittersweet triumph, but what the hell, he'll take it. Sustained discomfort with one's body, well... Well. He can't get his bones back, but he can redesign what he has, and in a way that puts him one up on Sans's situation.
In a parallel, diverging train of thought, there's a real humming sense to everything technological, isn't there? Not whispering, but... Energy flowing towards him, into him, pleasantly cordless. His limbs feel particularly malleable, like he could... heh, yes, extend an arm and shift some internal features to get a hint of red glow in some of the joints. Not at all the same, but something of an echo of his brother's! That's fun. And only maybe distressing to watch.]
[Sans is floating, absorbing the nothingness as much as he can while still lingering near Papyrus and the sun lamp. As far as Sans is concerned, Papyrus isn't supposed to have a body either, so between that and how scattered and distracted his thoughts are, he's operating on a bit of a time lag when it comes to noticing how Papyrus's arm changes. The text comes several seconds after Papyrus changes things up.]
It's fine! [He grins and flexes it in demonstration, flips it palm up to examine just what changed to make this effect.] I turned off the pain receptors while changing it, but they're on again and nothing hurts. What do you think, does it look like yours?
[Belatedly, he remembers the whole reason Sans went intangible in the first place. Processing power for parallel trains of thought is no guarantee he'll keep actively thinking about things, sometimes... The amused and self-satisfied grin fades to something more forced, but doesn't fade entirely.]
[Reminded of the body he's trapped in, Sans flickers briefly into visibility, though he's still intangible. That's good, because in those few moments where he can be seen, he's taking up a strange amount of space, like he's unspooled his body into ribbons of light and pushed the matter as far away as he can get it. Then he's invisible again.]
the glowing is good [The glowing is correct, he thinks. Or closer to correct. That's more how they should be.]
O-Oh, yeah? [It's a relief to hear, for all the sight of what Sans is doing behind the scenes is... a little alarming. Not the same kind of abstracted shapes as when he was superimposing all over, but... alarming to look at. It's more of a relief when Sans goes invisible again. Hopefully that's reversible.] Maybe I should get some more lights to install... That sounds cool, right?
[The more he thinks about it, the more it's an appealing idea, glowing in the middle of the night. Unusually appealing. But whatever! It's clear some weird nonsense is going on, and glowing is harmless - and maybe even helpful, with the way Sans is being. He can be at least as cool as a sun lamp.]
[It's difficult to tell tone over text, but Sans is leaking intent, and he's kind of insisting more than he's agreeing. Light is good. It's correct, and it will fight back the darkness. Papyrus should want more lights.]
Yeah, I should, shouldn't I? [For all it wasn't a direct command, the emphasis brings it close enough to push some mental buttons. Papyrus nods agreement, eyes brightening - emotionally and literally - at the idea.] I deserve cool lights! Glow-in-the-dark paint, that was nothing. It's hard to make metal glow, but maybe some slots filled with plastic... Something inside for extra bracing...
[A couple very quick, roughed up ideas transmit as images to Sans's phone. Depictions of robo-Papyrus, now with the translucent blue plastic of 90s electronics replacing parts of his outer casing - plastic shaped like bones, with light coming from inside. One of the mockups goes for a more orange design, with electronic "flames" featuring significantly.]
[Papyrus needs to build so much just to add some lighting. It's a good idea, but if Sans is going to be stuck with a body, at least his glows on its own.]
more light means less whispering and less dark it's good
[Under different circumstances, Sans would probably compliment Papyrus's casing style ideas, but as it is, Sans has specific priorities in mind.]
[Wow, voidgod Sans sure has light on the brain, huh? But he's trying to stay responsive, which is something reassuring. Papyrus huffs a laugh, the lights flickering with a subconscious pull for more energy.] I see I haven't impressed you with my designs yet...
But that's fine!! These are rough drafts. I'll get some supplies and try something a little more, uh, realized. [Tangible is probably not a positive word in his brother's book right now, he guesses.] And make even cooler designs in days to come!!
[Sorry, were you trying to carry on a conversation? Sans sends texts as rapidly as Papyrus can send them even while Papyrus is talking; the speed alone is a sign he's not sending them through conventional means, but the way each of them lights up with harsh, sharp light when they arrive is another sign.]
[Okay, the first couple nos he took to be wiseass reactions, some sort of joke that Papyrus wouldn't make a cool enough design. By stop that he's trailing off, frowning at the internal words and the odd speed with which they're arriving - not to mention the light.]
What with the lights, you're the one flashing messages at me? [Good humor's fading to irritation, the question of just why he's humoring all these weird behaviors when he could just leave Sans to enjoying the lamp on his own.] What lights?
The lamps? [Papyrus considers the sun lamp, then the various lights around the room. They both seem lit to him, unflickering... But when he reaches out to tap the lampshade of the end table's lamp near him, it flickers and flashes and he feels that comforting buzz entering him. He pulls his finger back, probably too late to avoid distressing Sans further, and admits:]
...Okay. So. The battery thing is maybe happening harder than before. I'm not sure how to... not do that. [He doesn't want to not do that, on one level - it felt comforting and fortifying and right, empowering to the point it's harder to care what anyone else thinks. But that's... that's not the Great Papyrus, and whatever's going on, he's not so far gone that he's forgotten his own decisions about who he wants to be.] How about, I go grab a car battery.
[Sans doesn't bombard Papyrus with messages this time, a little more prepared, but there's a strange aura of distress in the room. It's not the sort to make Papyrus himself feel distressed just on contact, it's just Sans's emotions getting all over the place.]
ok if you need to eat more not the living room lights ok?
[Sans would prefer not any light sources, but he doesn't want Papyrus to starve more than he's afraid of the dark.]
They want to flow into me, I can feel it. [Papyrus doesn't know where exactly Sans is - well, he knows 'exactly' is exactly the wrong word to use here - but he stares in the direction Sans had been before going intangible. His eyes are glowing again, more brightly, like the light he absorbed in those flickers will glow out of him if he just takes in enough.] It... I think it'll happen again. Maybe less with the battery.
[He's starting to want to go to his workshop not to retrieve the battery, but to hang out in there with his supplies. To see what he can make. Make of himself, make of other things... just make, destroy, change.]
[A surge of uncharacteristic possessiveness, like Sans might be wrapping himself around that sun lamp or something else ridiculous. Considering the state of his body the last time Papyrus saw it, it wouldn't be impossible.
[The craving for all the lights is getting stronger the more they talk about it, and Papyrus's face goes wry and contemplative. The lights in the room don't flicker right away... but the lights of the hallway do, and something meanly amused flashes through his face before something regretful and worried follows it. It settles into something decided, and he snorts as he stands.] Okay, fine, not your lights. I'm going to my workshop! Where I'll chew on the lights all I like. Keep your phone this time, so we can keep in touch.
[The distress ratchets up in the room as the hallway lights flicker. But it's not the living room lights. He's okay. It's okay. The eyes scattered in the hallway glow brighter, like they're trying to make up for the flickering.]
ok
[Okay, so maybe Sans actually is curled around the sun lamp now. Nobody can see him, so it's fine.]
[...Yeah, the regret and worry spike with that sense of distress in the air. What he wants and feels is shifting with whatever's going on with the light and dark, and what he wants hurts his brother, so...]
Okay. [Assertive, agreement... a hint of apology. He nods in Sans's previous direction, then strides down the hallway towards the workshop, and he can tell himself it's not running away because it's going towards something. (It's only 23.472% convincing.)]
[Now that all the okays have been sorted out, Sans is left alone in the living room. The quiet is relieving. The whispering that crawls in through every shadow isn't. He follows Papyrus down the hallway with the eyes there, but he doesn't have any in the workshop. Once Papyrus is inside, Sans is basically alone in the house. Which is fine. He glows invisibly brighter and feels a little better.]
[None at all? One or two around the shelf wouldn't be a huge problem, especially not if they're aimed more for checking that the shelf is clear than for watching the whole workshop - that's what Sans popping in is for. Not that Papyrus is going to say so, by voice or by text, when the idea hasn't occurred to him and he's busy flitting around the workshop anyway.
It's just as well he fled left, since touching one of the car batteries is... it's boring, it's nothing. The electricity in use, lights and charging devices, that's what feels invigorating right now. Somehow even other signals, like some of the neighbors' distant modems, are something he can absorb, taste and enjoy. The imperfections of some of his damaged tools sing out to be fixed, and he doesn't even need to rent space in a forge - he can just gesture, just will it, and as smoothly as his old skill with magic the metal bubbles up to reform, tools repaired and whole. It's... heady.
Despite his effort to restrict his pull to the workshop (and the neighbors, because they're not emitting distress he can feel), the power does flicker a couple times during the night. Brief flickers only, during times of distracted focus. But thankfully the ongoing power surge is enough that the lights never outright go out beyond a couple burnt bulbs in the workshop, not with him trying to avoid it. Once or twice he even texts back a SORRY, other times he just focuses on rigging an active reminder in his mind. The distress might be contagious... but it feels less relevant, the more powerful and important he feels. And it's so easy to rationalize to himself that Sans wouldn't want him not charging, so really this is the best they can hope for here isn't it!]
[It's easy to tell when the power is flickering in the house, or at least where Sans can see it, because the distress surges up like a wave, getting in through all the little cracks and doorways a house inevitably has. Tonight, with things only just beginning, Sans can keep his distress from being magically contagious. Any distress Papyrus might feel just as a normal result of Sans's distress is an entirely other thing, of course, and not in Sans's control.
Sans does have a couple of eyes for checking shelf access. It doesn't give him a great view of the workshop, and anyway with the way Papyrus is draining everything in there he's trying to push those pretty far back in his awareness, but at the same time it's relieving to know exactly where Papyrus is even if he can't always see Papyrus if he's not in direct view of the shelf. And what Papyrus is doing is weird, but also it's not, because matter shouldn't be a set thing to them anyway. He doesn't comment on it, just sends back it's ok every time Papyrus tosses out an apology and tries to convince himself he really means that.
Dawn, of course, is inevitable. And as the light overtakes the darkness, sure as the tides, all of Sans's distress recedes. Emotionally, everything goes still. Unnaturally so, actually. Like the whole house is holding its breath.]
[The night passes in a blur of experimentation and play. The new malleability of metal and machinery, more like magic than even programming's gotten to be, made it so easy to repair things he'd been meaning to get around to. With a whim, spare metal helped to augment the various metal scaffolding of the room - now the beams in the walls and ceilings look suspiciously like femurs and other archetypal bones.
As dawn comes on, Papyrus stands and appreciates the sight with the sunlight streaming in the side window. It's an uncomplicated satisfaction, or an unshadowed one - that distress hanging in the air faded away at some point. Maybe Sans finally got to sleep?
The question sends as a text unintentionally, \E5HEY, IS THAT WHISPERING&STILL HAPPENING? Whether that makes a sound or vibrates depends on Sans's phone's settings - the message came without enough warning for any trackers to adjust them.]
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spaghettimonster) wrote2021-07-31 02:32 am
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[But in a scared and pained kind of way, rather than getting all analytical or philosophical, let alone aggressive in getting rid of intrusive sounds... No, wait.]
And upset about sounds, again. [Is the problem partly that Sans can't get rid of the sounds, here? It's not like he can attack his own soul to get rid of the whispers - well, hopefully not, and that's not an idea that Papyrus is letting leave his skull. But he grinds his teeth for 0.34 seconds, then tries a hopefully less dangerous suggestion.] Would... I don't want to suggest this, because I don't know what you'll do with it. But, in case it helps, and because I'm a helpful brother who cares: would going all intangible help any?
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A moment later, a text from Sans.]
this is better
[Not perfect, but better. He'd rather not have the phone with him, but somewhere in his mind he still recognizes Papyrus. Papyrus is important, and the way they are here, Sans can't talk to Papyrus without the phone if he's intangible. A compromise.]
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[Might be, more like, but nobody needs that kind of accuracy here. This is a bittersweet triumph, but what the hell, he'll take it. Sustained discomfort with one's body, well... Well. He can't get his bones back, but he can redesign what he has, and in a way that puts him one up on Sans's situation.
In a parallel, diverging train of thought, there's a real humming sense to everything technological, isn't there? Not whispering, but... Energy flowing towards him, into him, pleasantly cordless. His limbs feel particularly malleable, like he could... heh, yes, extend an arm and shift some internal features to get a hint of red glow in some of the joints. Not at all the same, but something of an echo of his brother's! That's fun. And only maybe distressing to watch.]
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is your arm ok?
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[Belatedly, he remembers the whole reason Sans went intangible in the first place. Processing power for parallel trains of thought is no guarantee he'll keep actively thinking about things, sometimes... The amused and self-satisfied grin fades to something more forced, but doesn't fade entirely.]
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the glowing is good [The glowing is correct, he thinks. Or closer to correct. That's more how they should be.]
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[The more he thinks about it, the more it's an appealing idea, glowing in the middle of the night. Unusually appealing. But whatever! It's clear some weird nonsense is going on, and glowing is harmless - and maybe even helpful, with the way Sans is being. He can be at least as cool as a sun lamp.]
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[It's difficult to tell tone over text, but Sans is leaking intent, and he's kind of insisting more than he's agreeing. Light is good. It's correct, and it will fight back the darkness. Papyrus should want more lights.]
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[A couple very quick, roughed up ideas transmit as images to Sans's phone. Depictions of robo-Papyrus, now with the translucent blue plastic of 90s electronics replacing parts of his outer casing - plastic shaped like bones, with light coming from inside. One of the mockups goes for a more orange design, with electronic "flames" featuring significantly.]
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more light means less whispering and less dark
it's good
[Under different circumstances, Sans would probably compliment Papyrus's casing style ideas, but as it is, Sans has specific priorities in mind.]
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But that's fine!! These are rough drafts. I'll get some supplies and try something a little more, uh, realized. [Tangible is probably not a positive word in his brother's book right now, he guesses.] And make even cooler designs in days to come!!
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no
no
no
no
stop that
with the lights
stop
[He doesn't like them flickering.]
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What with the lights, you're the one flashing messages at me? [Good humor's fading to irritation, the question of just why he's humoring all these weird behaviors when he could just leave Sans to enjoying the lamp on his own.] What lights?
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they're flickering
don't make them flicker
keep them on
[There's frustration on Sans's end, too, at Papyrus not understanding him, but instinctive fear of the dark is winning out.]
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...Okay. So. The battery thing is maybe happening harder than before. I'm not sure how to... not do that. [He doesn't want to not do that, on one level - it felt comforting and fortifying and right, empowering to the point it's harder to care what anyone else thinks. But that's... that's not the Great Papyrus, and whatever's going on, he's not so far gone that he's forgotten his own decisions about who he wants to be.] How about, I go grab a car battery.
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ok
if you need to eat more
not the living room lights
ok?
[Sans would prefer not any light sources, but he doesn't want Papyrus to starve more than he's afraid of the dark.]
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[He's starting to want to go to his workshop not to retrieve the battery, but to hang out in there with his supplies. To see what he can make. Make of himself, make of other things... just make, destroy, change.]
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[A surge of uncharacteristic possessiveness, like Sans might be wrapping himself around that sun lamp or something else ridiculous. Considering the state of his body the last time Papyrus saw it, it wouldn't be impossible.
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ok
[Okay, so maybe Sans actually is curled around the sun lamp now. Nobody can see him, so it's fine.]
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Okay. [Assertive, agreement... a hint of apology. He nods in Sans's previous direction, then strides down the hallway towards the workshop, and he can tell himself it's not running away because it's going towards something. (It's only 23.472% convincing.)]
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It's just as well he
fledleft, since touching one of the car batteries is... it's boring, it's nothing. The electricity in use, lights and charging devices, that's what feels invigorating right now. Somehow even other signals, like some of the neighbors' distant modems, are something he can absorb, taste and enjoy. The imperfections of some of his damaged tools sing out to be fixed, and he doesn't even need to rent space in a forge - he can just gesture, just will it, and as smoothly as his old skill with magic the metal bubbles up to reform, tools repaired and whole. It's... heady.Despite his effort to restrict his pull to the workshop (and the neighbors, because they're not emitting distress he can feel), the power does flicker a couple times during the night. Brief flickers only, during times of distracted focus. But thankfully the ongoing power surge is enough that the lights never outright go out beyond a couple burnt bulbs in the workshop, not with him trying to avoid it. Once or twice he even texts back a SORRY, other times he just focuses on rigging an active reminder in his mind. The distress might be contagious... but it feels less relevant, the more powerful and important he feels. And it's so easy to rationalize to himself that Sans wouldn't want him not charging, so really this is the best they can hope for here isn't it!]
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Sans does have a couple of eyes for checking shelf access. It doesn't give him a great view of the workshop, and anyway with the way Papyrus is draining everything in there he's trying to push those pretty far back in his awareness, but at the same time it's relieving to know exactly where Papyrus is even if he can't always see Papyrus if he's not in direct view of the shelf. And what Papyrus is doing is weird, but also it's not, because matter shouldn't be a set thing to them anyway. He doesn't comment on it, just sends back it's ok every time Papyrus tosses out an apology and tries to convince himself he really means that.
Dawn, of course, is inevitable. And as the light overtakes the darkness, sure as the tides, all of Sans's distress recedes. Emotionally, everything goes still. Unnaturally so, actually. Like the whole house is holding its breath.]
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As dawn comes on, Papyrus stands and appreciates the sight with the sunlight streaming in the side window. It's an uncomplicated satisfaction, or an unshadowed one - that distress hanging in the air faded away at some point. Maybe Sans finally got to sleep?
The question sends as a text unintentionally, \E5HEY, IS THAT WHISPERING&STILL HAPPENING? Whether that makes a sound or vibrates depends on Sans's phone's settings - the message came without enough warning for any trackers to adjust them.]
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having a good time, having a good time
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