[Sans lets himself into Papyrus's house. For all he'd rather be living in the same place as his brother, at least Papyrus having a house to himself makes it easier on talking without having to put up two different kinds of performances at once. No hiding he's not from here, no hiding he's a monster.
The necessity of all these performances is kind of why he's here, though--Sans keeps a close eye on the network, and he saw Papyrus's response to the dinner invitation. It shouldn't be a big deal. It shouldn't be. In any reasonable place, it wouldn't be. But this isn't a reasonable place, that was obviously not any old dinner invitation, and Papyrus has already been dragged off and drugged into compliance once.
So. Here Sans is. He closes the door behind him and calls out into the house.] Hey, bro?
[There's a clatter from the kitchen, followed quickly by Papyrus's voice:] Sans! Hello! I'm in here.
[There's no footsteps of heading out to welcome him in - Sans isn't a house guest, he's a brother, and Papyrus gave him that key with the knowledge that it would lead to surprise visits. Anyway, they haven't been in this town like this long enough that the separate houses don't still seem strange. It's more familiar for Sans to show up without calling, walking in like he lives there.
Over in the kitchen, Papyrus is crouching just low enough to stare intently at a glass bowl on the countertop. The whole stretch of the counter from there to the sink is cluttered with little boxes and mixing bowls and a casserole dish, some of them open or with things inside, along with a pack of synthetic food dyes. The smell of gelatin fills the air.]
[Sans meanders over to the kitchen, noting once more how similar all these houses are. Not identical, but identical enough. It's weird. Really makes a guy miss green couches and zigzag carpeting.
Sans could start off with why he dropped in. Instead, he does what he does best: avoid the subject.] Working on another of those jello things they like here?
Yes! [If the energy of his voice doesn't give it away, the energy of his nod surely does - Papyrus has been at this a while, and without enough sleep. It doesn't impede his cheer as he continues:]
I'm going to make something to bring to a party. But I thought, why just make something, when I could make a real splash of it? So! I'm experimenting with colors.
[The first two, nearest the sink, are somewhat muddy blends of colors and beginning to melt, like they've been out of the fridge too long. The next over has three layers of distinct colors, but with a white material between the layers, interfering with how light goes through. The latest one has distinct halves of yellow and blue, with barely a hint of a green line between them. He points triumphantly at the bowl, gesturing for Sans to take a look if he hasn't already.
Energized as he is by this, though, there's something a little sidelong to his expression now. His invitation to look is something of a test, gauging what's going on. He's too familiar with Sans's careful nonchalance not to wonder whether his brother's really just visiting, or visiting but being evasive about something, or what.]
[Sans hears that particular tone of tired energy in Papyrus's voice. It's one he's heard very rarely at home and more recently, if more dramatically, when Papyrus showed up slumped over on his front step. Which reminds him all over again why he's here. Still, he looks at the colors as directed.]
Huh, look at that. You're gettin' pretty good at it. [At least, as far as Sans can tell. He doesn't know a lot about making gelatin. But his eyes flick back over to Papyrus, his expression assessing. It's a familiar expression, just exaggerated on this human face. Much less exaggerated than when Sans arrived, at least. The window of easily discerning Sans's expressions is closing little by little.] Hey, speaking of the party, you remember that invitation on--online, I guess? [It's not exactly a modern internet, and really it seems like more of an intranet, but whatever.]
On- very tiny, very few -line, yes. [The devices are so small, and show so little text at a time. It's enough he's considered spending a few weeks enthusiastically playing with electronics, but he doesn't want to risk outright breaking it... But they were talking about something.]
Yyyyes, I remember that.
[The invitation, and the fact that he replied to it a bit after the fact. Maybe once he would have replied all but immediately, but, well... The relative quiet, simplicity, and minimal use of the messages just doesn't draw his attention the same way as real social media like the Undernet did.]
It's an invitation that includes us, if not by name! Does that mean you're going?
Yeah, I'll probably drop in for a while. See who's who and all that. Eat the food. [Again Sans dodges. It's so easy to do when he doesn't want to have a conversation. He forces himself back on topic.] But actually I wanted to talk about your reply. Where you brought up letter puzzles.
[Yeah, that much is to be expected. Show up, chat a little, mostly eat some snacks... Papyrus will have to include something Sans would theoretically like, the way he's seen some gelatin displays include little sculptures of other food inside. Maybe hotdogs. But planning artisanal foodstuffs isn't enough to distract him from the growing signs that he was right, and Sans is here about something. That's all way too casual, and without any annoying jokes at all.]
...Right, I did... [His sidelong squinting gets a little shiftier, a little more of a guilty conscience to it, and he offers slightly defensively:] The capitalization in that invitation... was weird. I don't know why they didn't do the sensible thing, and capitalize it all! Not unless it was supposed to be a 'fun' puzzle.
[Not that he finds that type fun, but, well. He didn't refer to it as Junior Jumble-like specifically, because who knows what human newspapers call such puzzles? Not him, when he's been busy sleeping forever every day, and torn between different forms of education or entertainment, be it cooking or driving or 'movie nights'...]
cw: this conversation from now on definitely has shades of forcing someone to mask a neurodivergency
It was, uh--kind of a puzzle. Telling everyone who lives on our street that isn't actually from here to go meet up and figure stuff out. [Sans looks uncomfortable, though it might not be clear why. It's because he has to talk to Papyrus about appropriate social behaviors and he hasn't done that directly since Papyrus was like six or something and there's nothing wrong with Papyrus, not really, but.
But.
Sans doesn't quite meet Papyrus's eyes, saying this.] So you really shouldn't draw attention to it like that. Or. Talk about puzzles like that on the network. At all, probably.
[Papyrus turns to scowl Sans's way, but cuts himself off from saying more right away. Not least because, as it turns out, another of the unpleasant things about having stuff like skin and muscles is that he can feel his eyelid twitching.
He scrubs at it with one hand, shoulders hunching a little at the idea that maybe this looks like he's rubbing at tears or something, and refuses to consider whether maybe he is. Years ago, he would have just been insulted by his brother treating him like a baby bones who needs to be told to say 'please'. Months ago, he was grateful to have Sans giving advice and taking some responsibilities off his shoulders. These days...]
...Why would. That... I was talking about newspaper puzzles. Not, newspaper clipping conspiracy puzzles. They have newspapers here every day, how can that be...
[On some level, he knows he's misinterpreting the (unusually strong) advice. That the problem isn't the normality of puzzles, but that apparently there was some other puzzle in there, and... that maybe he drew attention to it. He crosses his arms tightly over his chest, defensively.]
[Sans holds his ground even if he's still not quite looking directly at Papyrus. He doesn't know how much of this Papyrus is deliberately ignoring and how much he didn't realize, which leaves Sans to have to state everything out loud. He hates doing that.]
That invitation was already cuttin' it close about being too obvious. There's no way the people in charge aren't watching the net, so if you start talking about an invitation for all of us to meet up having puzzles in it, they might look closer.
[And it really wouldn't take looking very close to figure it out. Sans is going, but he knows he's taking a risk. He needs to see who else is in this situation.]
[He stamps a foot twice before he stops himself, cutting off the incredulous and irritated repetition to grind his teeth. To breathe in through his nostrils, which flare with it, and out through his teeth. All his new skin is prickling, cold or hot or both at once, which he's felt before - when he was scared.]
How. Was it obvious. That it's a... puzzle invitation. And not a party.
[It occurs to him that he doesn't need to watch his brother while waiting for this explanation, or to look at his brother at all. His brother, who still isn't looking at him, as if Sans is ashamed to be explaining this, or just ashamed - or scared - to need to.
Papyrus can instead look down to dig in a pocket, pull that mini-net device out, and reread it for himself. He does so, even while Sans does or doesn't respond, squinting at the characters and mouthing a couple of the capitalized phrases to himself.]
[Under any other circumstance, Papyrus's foot stomping would be entertaining. There's still a strange pang of nostalgia to it; it looks different like this, with Papyrus as a human, but it's such a Papyrus way of expressing frustration that he hasn't seen in what feels like forever. At least with Papyrus looking at the invitation again, Sans can keep going without having to see Papyrus's expression directly.]
Everyone I've seen who isn't actually from here is on Haven Street. [That part Sans knows by observation alone.] The party's so we can know who everybody is, what our actual lives are, and make plans about what we're gonna do about this place. [Therefore, the capitalization.]
...I think you can still bring the jello thing. [He's not sure if that helps at all.]
[Papyrus keeps grinding his teeth, but he relaxes just enough to lean against the counter instead of standing so defensively stiffly. Maybe it mollifies him a little, the reassurance that Sans won't be an obstacle to him using all this food prep or attending.]
...Okay... Some of that, was obvious. People being on this street. And... getting to know each other, not just practicing our best party smiles...
[He put a lot of practice into his party smile, at the last party. Did his best to imitate the majority of the people around them. It wasn't clear, when he was abducted, what exactly he did wrong... and the movie only cleared so much up. Maybe the smiling wasn't convincing enough, and it'd be helpful to practice that some more. Or, maybe Sans's hinting is right, and it was talking about things where others could read it or hear it.]
[Sans relaxes when Papyrus does, though it's difficult to tell. Mostly it's in his posture, the way his perpetual slouch becomes subtly less stiff.]
Yeah, see? So drawing more attention to it being a puzzle is gonna make it stand out even more. It'll prob'ly be the same with other stuff people say, if they're gonna use the net like that.
[Will Sans? He hasn't decided. Better to let everyone else test how much they can get away with first.]
[Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. He sees at least some of it, but he's not convinced of all he does, and he knows he's still missing some of it. If they're actually outright talking about these things... He has to try to ask. He needs to do better.]
Why is, 'let's get to know each other,' a secret puzzle message? That's... That c-can't be something, subversive. [Papyrus briefly shivers at the word, but makes himself say it anyway.] It's neighborly. The sort of things we're supposed to be doing. Why make it about... What did you say, planning what we're going to d-do about this place...?
[Maybe it's because he's tired, from staying up reading a cookbook and assembling so many gelatin mixes in a row. But he doesn't emphasize 'supposed to', doesn't add an ironic twist to his tone or expression. On some level... there's rules in this town, and consequences for breaking them, and he doesn't currently expect to get anything out of just breaking them.]
Hey, I didn't plan the dinner party. [Sans shrugs, which helps keep his posture more loose. It's funny, in the way so many things in his life are funny, that Papyrus seems to have already decided he doesn't want to step out of line for no reason. You know, the kind of funny that makes him feel vaguely sick. Sans feels weird enough reasoning with Papyrus about acting different, and this town is just going to try to--torture it into him. Into all of them, if it has to.] But even if it's just about talking about where we're actually from, then I don't think the town's gonna be super thrilled if they hear it. They've got some pretty specific notions for the right way to be neighborly. [Sans's expression does quirk ironically. He doesn't know any other way to handle it.]
That's... maybe true, I guess. [That's right, he almost says, but... It isn't right. Obviously. One movie night (well, two) wasn't nearly enough to scare or scar the ideals of this town that deeply into him. Enough to convince him to play along with a different kind of fear to motivate, maybe, but...
His hands ball into fists, as he glances out the nearest window for signs of watchers, like he might see somebody looking in and shaking their head at the brothers for talking like this. A ridiculous notion. No, he can't let himself think they're being watched that closely. He can't give up on getting good enough at fitting in to start convincing the town to change.]
...It could be for talking about where we're from, and, how better to not slip up. Why... [A swallow, a breath.] Why else move us all in together? On the same street. Whoever brought us here... Surely they must know where they put us. All that work on photos...
[Sans shrugs again, this time a little more helplessly.] Hell if I know why they're doing any of it. All I know is the party means we get a look at who's stuck here with us without having to go door to door and with free snacks.
[And if he strongly suspects there are going to be a lot of plans for subverting this place, well, they don't have to get involved. (But he doesn't suspect they're going to openly plan murder.) Sans can make his own plans, but it's better to know what he's working with.]
[Papyrus breathes out slowly, halfway to a sigh. That's true too, they don't know any of if for sure. He can guess, he can worry, he can even think up plans to maybe talk to the people arranging this party, to advise them to maybe make their future secret messages ones that aren't risky to get caught in making...
But he can also look sidelong at Sans and that helpless shrug, and make a point of not further worrying his brother, as much as he can help it. Starting by pulling up a faint smile - one that gets a little more sincere and a lot more wry when he pointedly glances at the countertop.]
Free for you, maybe. Some of us will be polite guests, bringing homemade food, and that's not free. [At the very least, the food prep will give him something safer to worry about, so maybe he can wear out his worrying on something easy. But before they do their habitual retreat into the inane:] ...Was it... puzzles, or was it... The idea of hidden things at all?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
January 24thish
The necessity of all these performances is kind of why he's here, though--Sans keeps a close eye on the network, and he saw Papyrus's response to the dinner invitation. It shouldn't be a big deal. It shouldn't be. In any reasonable place, it wouldn't be. But this isn't a reasonable place, that was obviously not any old dinner invitation, and Papyrus has already been dragged off and drugged into compliance once.
So. Here Sans is. He closes the door behind him and calls out into the house.] Hey, bro?
scene setting
[There's no footsteps of heading out to welcome him in - Sans isn't a house guest, he's a brother, and Papyrus gave him that key with the knowledge that it would lead to surprise visits. Anyway, they haven't been in this town like this long enough that the separate houses don't still seem strange. It's more familiar for Sans to show up without calling, walking in like he lives there.
Over in the kitchen, Papyrus is crouching just low enough to stare intently at a glass bowl on the countertop. The whole stretch of the counter from there to the sink is cluttered with little boxes and mixing bowls and a casserole dish, some of them open or with things inside, along with a pack of synthetic food dyes. The smell of gelatin fills the air.]
no subject
Sans could start off with why he dropped in. Instead, he does what he does best: avoid the subject.] Working on another of those jello things they like here?
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I'm going to make something to bring to a party. But I thought, why just make something, when I could make a real splash of it? So! I'm experimenting with colors.
[The first two, nearest the sink, are somewhat muddy blends of colors and beginning to melt, like they've been out of the fridge too long. The next over has three layers of distinct colors, but with a white material between the layers, interfering with how light goes through. The latest one has distinct halves of yellow and blue, with barely a hint of a green line between them. He points triumphantly at the bowl, gesturing for Sans to take a look if he hasn't already.
Energized as he is by this, though, there's something a little sidelong to his expression now. His invitation to look is something of a test, gauging what's going on. He's too familiar with Sans's careful nonchalance not to wonder whether his brother's really just visiting, or visiting but being evasive about something, or what.]
no subject
Huh, look at that. You're gettin' pretty good at it. [At least, as far as Sans can tell. He doesn't know a lot about making gelatin. But his eyes flick back over to Papyrus, his expression assessing. It's a familiar expression, just exaggerated on this human face. Much less exaggerated than when Sans arrived, at least. The window of easily discerning Sans's expressions is closing little by little.] Hey, speaking of the party, you remember that invitation on--online, I guess? [It's not exactly a modern internet, and really it seems like more of an intranet, but whatever.]
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Yyyyes, I remember that.
[The invitation, and the fact that he replied to it a bit after the fact. Maybe once he would have replied all but immediately, but, well... The relative quiet, simplicity, and minimal use of the messages just doesn't draw his attention the same way as real social media like the Undernet did.]
It's an invitation that includes us, if not by name! Does that mean you're going?
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[It's casual. Very, deliberately casual.]
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...Right, I did... [His sidelong squinting gets a little shiftier, a little more of a guilty conscience to it, and he offers slightly defensively:] The capitalization in that invitation... was weird. I don't know why they didn't do the sensible thing, and capitalize it all! Not unless it was supposed to be a 'fun' puzzle.
[Not that he finds that type fun, but, well. He didn't refer to it as Junior Jumble-like specifically, because who knows what human newspapers call such puzzles? Not him, when he's been busy sleeping forever every day, and torn between different forms of education or entertainment, be it cooking or driving or 'movie nights'...]
cw: this conversation from now on definitely has shades of forcing someone to mask a neurodivergency
But.
Sans doesn't quite meet Papyrus's eyes, saying this.] So you really shouldn't draw attention to it like that. Or. Talk about puzzles like that on the network. At all, probably.
no subject
[Papyrus turns to scowl Sans's way, but cuts himself off from saying more right away. Not least because, as it turns out, another of the unpleasant things about having stuff like skin and muscles is that he can feel his eyelid twitching.
He scrubs at it with one hand, shoulders hunching a little at the idea that maybe this looks like he's rubbing at tears or something, and refuses to consider whether maybe he is. Years ago, he would have just been insulted by his brother treating him like a baby bones who needs to be told to say 'please'. Months ago, he was grateful to have Sans giving advice and taking some responsibilities off his shoulders. These days...]
...Why would. That... I was talking about newspaper puzzles. Not, newspaper clipping conspiracy puzzles. They have newspapers here every day, how can that be...
[On some level, he knows he's misinterpreting the (unusually strong) advice. That the problem isn't the normality of puzzles, but that apparently there was some other puzzle in there, and... that maybe he drew attention to it. He crosses his arms tightly over his chest, defensively.]
no subject
That invitation was already cuttin' it close about being too obvious. There's no way the people in charge aren't watching the net, so if you start talking about an invitation for all of us to meet up having puzzles in it, they might look closer.
[And it really wouldn't take looking very close to figure it out. Sans is going, but he knows he's taking a risk. He needs to see who else is in this situation.]
no subject
[He stamps a foot twice before he stops himself, cutting off the incredulous and irritated repetition to grind his teeth. To breathe in through his nostrils, which flare with it, and out through his teeth. All his new skin is prickling, cold or hot or both at once, which he's felt before - when he was scared.]
How. Was it obvious. That it's a... puzzle invitation. And not a party.
[It occurs to him that he doesn't need to watch his brother while waiting for this explanation, or to look at his brother at all. His brother, who still isn't looking at him, as if Sans is ashamed to be explaining this, or just ashamed - or scared - to need to.
Papyrus can instead look down to dig in a pocket, pull that mini-net device out, and reread it for himself. He does so, even while Sans does or doesn't respond, squinting at the characters and mouthing a couple of the capitalized phrases to himself.]
no subject
Everyone I've seen who isn't actually from here is on Haven Street. [That part Sans knows by observation alone.] The party's so we can know who everybody is, what our actual lives are, and make plans about what we're gonna do about this place. [Therefore, the capitalization.]
...I think you can still bring the jello thing. [He's not sure if that helps at all.]
no subject
...Okay... Some of that, was obvious. People being on this street. And... getting to know each other, not just practicing our best party smiles...
[He put a lot of practice into his party smile, at the last party. Did his best to imitate the majority of the people around them. It wasn't clear, when he was abducted, what exactly he did wrong... and the movie only cleared so much up. Maybe the smiling wasn't convincing enough, and it'd be helpful to practice that some more. Or, maybe Sans's hinting is right, and it was talking about things where others could read it or hear it.]
no subject
Yeah, see? So drawing more attention to it being a puzzle is gonna make it stand out even more. It'll prob'ly be the same with other stuff people say, if they're gonna use the net like that.
[Will Sans? He hasn't decided. Better to let everyone else test how much they can get away with first.]
no subject
[Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. He sees at least some of it, but he's not convinced of all he does, and he knows he's still missing some of it. If they're actually outright talking about these things... He has to try to ask. He needs to do better.]
Why is, 'let's get to know each other,' a secret puzzle message? That's... That c-can't be something, subversive. [Papyrus briefly shivers at the word, but makes himself say it anyway.] It's neighborly. The sort of things we're supposed to be doing. Why make it about... What did you say, planning what we're going to d-do about this place...?
[Maybe it's because he's tired, from staying up reading a cookbook and assembling so many gelatin mixes in a row. But he doesn't emphasize 'supposed to', doesn't add an ironic twist to his tone or expression. On some level... there's rules in this town, and consequences for breaking them, and he doesn't currently expect to get anything out of just breaking them.]
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His hands ball into fists, as he glances out the nearest window for signs of watchers, like he might see somebody looking in and shaking their head at the brothers for talking like this. A ridiculous notion. No, he can't let himself think they're being watched that closely. He can't give up on getting good enough at fitting in to start convincing the town to change.]
...It could be for talking about where we're from, and, how better to not slip up. Why... [A swallow, a breath.] Why else move us all in together? On the same street. Whoever brought us here... Surely they must know where they put us. All that work on photos...
no subject
[And if he strongly suspects there are going to be a lot of plans for subverting this place, well, they don't have to get involved. (But he doesn't suspect they're going to openly plan murder.) Sans can make his own plans, but it's better to know what he's working with.]
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But he can also look sidelong at Sans and that helpless shrug, and make a point of not further worrying his brother, as much as he can help it. Starting by pulling up a faint smile - one that gets a little more sincere and a lot more wry when he pointedly glances at the countertop.]
Free for you, maybe. Some of us will be polite guests, bringing homemade food, and that's not free. [At the very least, the food prep will give him something safer to worry about, so maybe he can wear out his worrying on something easy. But before they do their habitual retreat into the inane:] ...Was it... puzzles, or was it... The idea of hidden things at all?