Yeah, this isn't really made for tropical weather. [He shrugs to indicate his hoodie, which in spite of what he literally just said, he is still wearing. He stares harder at the picture, trying to will more knowledge to return.] You've sure got a lot of sunglasses.
[A more aggravated skeleton might point out the unseasonal attire and assume Sans hadn't bothered getting a change of clothes out of laziness. This particular Papyrus assumes it's for sparking memories, and focuses on a different line of complaining.]
And not a single pair with me! I had a packed lunch when I woke, but no sunglasses? For a trip to the beach??
[Well, that's not completely true. He bartered for some early on, as soon as it became clear that they're for blocking sunlight. But not any of these from the pictures.]
So the beach was a surprise. [Or Papyrus is bad at packing.] Usually we got shot out of a cannon to wherever we were having a mission, but they'd tell us what the weather was gonna be.
[Sans's memories for the bureau are fairly solid by now, except for the people involved. They still shift like shadows through his consciousness, refusing to be pinned down.]
But if this is a pic from home, then it'd be before all that anyway.
I guess that's true... [And he's heard, from Angus and others, that their home worlds were probably eaten by the Hunger, so that was probably a surprise too. One without cannons or weather warnings.]
But still! I mean, look at these. [He pulls out a pair of sunglasses - in the local style - and puts them sideways on the counter to demonstrate.]
If you turn them like this... They look like a B! Like the bracer symbols, for the Bureau!
[Papyrus nods, reaching the capstone of his argument here.]
File a complaint, huh... [A proactive, responsible-sounding sort of action. Papyrus finds he approves the idea with a warm glow in his ribcage. But there's just one obstacle, that they both mull over for a second.]
...Detectives probably know where to file complaints.
[With any luck, Angus will have an idea who he should talk to about this. And also be won over by the idea, and get prescription sunglasses of his own.]
He could probably use some company in those ruins anyway. [Sans recalls just how intense Angus had been about everything. You can't even tease the kid too much, he takes everything so seriously!] That kid doesn't know when to take a break.
[They're off topic. It's very easy for that to happen when talking to Papyrus, Sans is finding; the banter is natural but distracting.]
He does seem hard-working... [Almost reminds him of himself, except, way more focused. And with a clear goal.]
But you know what they say. Sometimes, the best ideas come when you step away. [Is that how they say it? Do either of them know? Sometimes, turns of phrase just come to his mouth regardless of whether there's any backing of knowledge or certainty behind them. Papyrus pushes on, invigorated by all the sunglasses pictures with an easy mix of narcissism and confidence.]
I'll let him help me with something... then he'll get some inspiration about his investigations! Everybody wins.
I'm sure that would make his day!!! [Because boy oh boy, the boy detective really wants to figure things out. Papyrus did his best before, but ended up feeling a little out of his depth in the figuring things out department.
Enthusiastic with this plan, he continues scrolling through the photos. A couple in a row are all, astonishingly, not decorative selfies of a cool skeleton, but a scattering of other faces from the photo Sans found. A blue and yellow blur, like a blue fish lady had been carrying a yellow lizard lady and running by. A small human, eyes closed mid-smile up at the camera, standing at a kitchen counter as if in the middle of helping cook. A large maned goat-dragon man offering a mug shaped like a skull.]
Wow, there's so many pictures in here. I guess I'm... a model? And a prolific photographer.
[Sans's thoughts stutter to a halt when he sees the human. That human, smiling at the camera--a child, brown hair, mouth cracking and splitting and opening too wide--
Sans's voice changes its tone; there's a little echo, like his voice really were bouncing around in that skull of his.]
Frisk. [He repeats thoughtfully, again with the ease of the sound of it.]
And something was... pretending to be them??
[Please don't tell him you've seen the face stealer wearing this Frisk's face, Sans. He doesn't want to worry that his own face is a replacement, with the original is being worn as a mask somewhere, or anything.]
Yeah. Hang on--[Sans pops open the files on his bracer, scrolling to the footage he got from when he recorded the other side of the wall and playing the end of it. This one keeps going beyond where the footage Sans put on the network ends, though--it records one of the Cursed changing its shape into a human with chin-length brown hair, a human whose face cracks open. Sans cuts it off there, but not before the shaking of the footage makes it obvious that Sans has grabbed the liveriverer and jerked away.]
[Papyrus watches the video, frowning with a little impatience at the familiarity of it, then startles when it continues past what he's watched repeatedly. He startles again at the Cursed changing shapes like that.]
Oh my god!! But that... how did it know to look like that...?
[If some of the Cursed can turn into memories that people don't even remember, that's awful and unfair. But the alternative is...
Angus and a couple others mentioned the Hunger eating peoples' worlds, but... He didn't really think about what that might mean for the people in them. If he'd imagined anything, it was like the worlds had been frozen and stuck in a bag, or something. Out of reach, not changing in their absence.]
[Sans is very still. It might be more fitting for a skeleton to be like that, except when you're talking about a live skeleton, it might just be extra creepy.]
It had to have gotten it from me, right? It'd be a hell of a coincidence. [Who knows how many things it could have turned into instead. But he doesn't know if it pulled the memory out of Sans's soul blind or if--well, if Frisk was in there somewhere to react to Sans's presence.]
Lucretia said--and she lied a lot, but I think she believed this when she said it--she said there was a way to get our worlds back.
[If that's true, the details have to be stored somewhere.]
he's also good at being a friend Papyrus can encourage... to become a better person!
[It's a little creepy. Not that it stops Papyrus from going still and watchful himself at times, but it's different being on the watching end than the stillness end.]
Angus said the same thing... Though, I guess, he might just have been echoing her. [A discouraging notion, and one he hopes isn't true.]
The Hunger ate them, right? So, we just have to get it to... spit them back out.
[You know, like a dog that's eating something it shouldn't be. Or maybe a constantly shifting pile of shadow goo temporarily making shapes like the people it's eaten.]
[Sans doesn't like thinking about this. Even so, he thinks about it a lot. What are they going to do about the Hunger? Is there a solution in someone's missing memories? Or maybe this is all going to be for nothing.
Deliberately, Sans loosens up.] Well, once everybody does get spit out, they're gonna be pretty mad if we can't remember their names by then. Show me those other pics again. [Deliberately, he winks.] Hope they're not covered in gross Hunger spit.
Maybe that's what they look like. [It's probably not what they look like, especially since Sans has that photograph where they're standing still to prove otherwise.] Or it was the best one you could get.
Somebody got that one with seven not-blurs. [Grumble, grumble. As if his skills aren't up to the task that someone else achieved, he's a great photographer, he's sure. Never mind that most of his pictures of the book in the coral were also blurs.
It just goes to show, something like the importance of trying and trying again until you succeed. A feeling that makes more sense the more he thinks on it. Being instantly perfect at things is great, but so is learning and growing, right? Right. Which leaves the mystery of why he seems to have only tried once, with these blurry figures...?]
Maybe... it's a joke. And we just forgot the punchline.
Edited (tagging during first meal of the day: grammar sure is a whimsical thing) 2020-10-15 17:26 (UTC)
If we forgot a punchline, we definitely have to remember it. [Jokes are very important.] I guess if we found whoever took that pic I've got-- [Or just someone besides Papyrus, in general, since Papyrus seems to like taking many, many pictures of himself. Hm.] Hey, hang on.
[And with no further elaboration, Sans vanishes. At least when he teleports here, he leaves mist behind to kind of indicate what happened.
He'll be back in a few minutes, though, and holding up a similar-looking phone. Sans's is significantly more beat up, though.] I hit up the vending machine.
[Okay, Sans probably isn't the only person on these islands that teleports, but it's still a little bit surprising every time. Even a lot a bit. Thankfully Papyrus wasn't in the middle of sipping anything.
The few minutes are enough time for him to continue scrolling through his images, enjoying a continuing parade of selfies in a couple recurring locations. The room with the pirate flag and the flame carpet and all, the snowy woods, a couple set in some wet caves with glowing decor, some outside somewhere. Even a couple more pictures of other people, including a robot not seen in the original picture... But none taken with the same care for focus as all the selfies. Unhelpful priorities, past Papyrus!
So when Sans reappears, the first thing Papyrus does - after jumping just a little bit - is take a picture of his brother.]
Yeah. [Sans settles himself back in his seat as he scrolls through the apps.] Maybe I took some pics, too.
[There's a moment of hesitation as his thumb hangs over the photo app, though, like maybe he should check through the whole phone before showing stuff to Papyrus. He doesn't know why, but it also doesn't feel odd to think--he trusts Papyrus, he's sure of that, but there's something--
Sans hedges his bets and shifts the angle of the screen so he gets a look at the thumbnails before Papyrus can make anything out. And, well, it's nothing bad, but--]
Well, I guess I did take some. [But he opens the first one and--well, it's Papyrus cooking in a kitchen with a way too tall sink. From a somewhat lower angle than Papyrus's photos of himself, but still.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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this icon is one of the pictures
And not a single pair with me! I had a packed lunch when I woke, but no sunglasses? For a trip to the beach??
[Well, that's not completely true. He bartered for some early on, as soon as it became clear that they're for blocking sunlight. But not any of these from the pictures.]
beautiful
[Sans's memories for the bureau are fairly solid by now, except for the people involved. They still shift like shadows through his consciousness, refusing to be pinned down.]
But if this is a pic from home, then it'd be before all that anyway.
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But still! I mean, look at these. [He pulls out a pair of sunglasses - in the local style - and puts them sideways on the counter to demonstrate.]
If you turn them like this... They look like a B! Like the bracer symbols, for the Bureau!
[Papyrus nods, reaching the capstone of his argument here.]
Sunglasses, should be part of the basic uniform.
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[Not that Sans has any idea who you would file that with. Lucretia?]
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...Detectives probably know where to file complaints.
[With any luck, Angus will have an idea who he should talk to about this. And also be won over by the idea, and get prescription sunglasses of his own.]
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[They're off topic. It's very easy for that to happen when talking to Papyrus, Sans is finding; the banter is natural but distracting.]
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But you know what they say. Sometimes, the best ideas come when you step away. [Is that how they say it? Do either of them know? Sometimes, turns of phrase just come to his mouth regardless of whether there's any backing of knowledge or certainty behind them. Papyrus pushes on, invigorated by all the sunglasses pictures with an easy mix of narcissism and confidence.]
I'll let him help me with something... then he'll get some inspiration about his investigations! Everybody wins.
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Enthusiastic with this plan, he continues scrolling through the photos. A couple in a row are all, astonishingly, not decorative selfies of a cool skeleton, but a scattering of other faces from the photo Sans found. A blue and yellow blur, like a blue fish lady had been carrying a yellow lizard lady and running by. A small human, eyes closed mid-smile up at the camera, standing at a kitchen counter as if in the middle of helping cook. A large maned goat-dragon man offering a mug shaped like a skull.]
Wow, there's so many pictures in here. I guess I'm... a model? And a prolific photographer.
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Sans's voice changes its tone; there's a little echo, like his voice really were bouncing around in that skull of his.]
Go back. There was a picture of a human.
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Uhhh. Okay... I'll go back. [Careful swipe, and there's the human again. A perfectly normal smile on a perfectly still photo. No cracks, no lunging.]
This one? Do you, remember something about them?
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Not them. Something that looked like them.
[He probably should have mentioned this.]
Frisk. That's Frisk.
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And something was... pretending to be them??
[Please don't tell him you've seen the face stealer wearing this Frisk's face, Sans. He doesn't want to worry that his own face is a replacement, with the original is being worn as a mask somewhere, or anything.]
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See?
finaglc: great icons for moments with horror bs
Oh my god!! But that... how did it know to look like that...?
[If some of the Cursed can turn into memories that people don't even remember, that's awful and unfair. But the alternative is...
Angus and a couple others mentioned the Hunger eating peoples' worlds, but... He didn't really think about what that might mean for the people in them. If he'd imagined anything, it was like the worlds had been frozen and stuck in a bag, or something. Out of reach, not changing in their absence.]
finally flowey is good for something
It had to have gotten it from me, right? It'd be a hell of a coincidence. [Who knows how many things it could have turned into instead. But he doesn't know if it pulled the memory out of Sans's soul blind or if--well, if Frisk was in there somewhere to react to Sans's presence.]
Lucretia said--and she lied a lot, but I think she believed this when she said it--she said there was a way to get our worlds back.
[If that's true, the details have to be stored somewhere.]
he's also good at being a friend Papyrus can encourage... to become a better person!
Angus said the same thing... Though, I guess, he might just have been echoing her. [A discouraging notion, and one he hopes isn't true.]
The Hunger ate them, right? So, we just have to get it to... spit them back out.
[You know, like a dog that's eating something it shouldn't be. Or maybe a constantly shifting pile of shadow goo temporarily making shapes like the people it's eaten.]
thanks flowey???
Deliberately, Sans loosens up.] Well, once everybody does get spit out, they're gonna be pretty mad if we can't remember their names by then. Show me those other pics again. [Deliberately, he winks.] Hope they're not covered in gross Hunger spit.
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I'm sure they'll forgive a little forgetting, if they know we saved them! [Honestly, what kinds of ungrateful friends wouldn't???
He flicks back to the previous picture anyway. It might as well have been covered in gross Hunger spit, with the blur of blue and yellow.]
...Hmmm, nope, I don't remember why I saved a picture like this.
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It just goes to show, something like the importance of trying and trying again until you succeed. A feeling that makes more sense the more he thinks on it. Being instantly perfect at things is great, but so is learning and growing, right? Right. Which leaves the mystery of why he seems to have only tried once, with these blurry figures...?]
Maybe... it's a joke. And we just forgot the punchline.
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[And with no further elaboration, Sans vanishes. At least when he teleports here, he leaves mist behind to kind of indicate what happened.
He'll be back in a few minutes, though, and holding up a similar-looking phone. Sans's is significantly more beat up, though.] I hit up the vending machine.
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The few minutes are enough time for him to continue scrolling through his images, enjoying a continuing parade of selfies in a couple recurring locations. The room with the pirate flag and the flame carpet and all, the snowy woods, a couple set in some wet caves with glowing decor, some outside somewhere. Even a couple more pictures of other people, including a robot not seen in the original picture... But none taken with the same care for focus as all the selfies. Unhelpful priorities, past Papyrus!
So when Sans reappears, the first thing Papyrus does - after jumping just a little bit - is take a picture of his brother.]
Oh? Oh! Is that your phone??
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[There's a moment of hesitation as his thumb hangs over the photo app, though, like maybe he should check through the whole phone before showing stuff to Papyrus. He doesn't know why, but it also doesn't feel odd to think--he trusts Papyrus, he's sure of that, but there's something--
Sans hedges his bets and shifts the angle of the screen so he gets a look at the thumbnails before Papyrus can make anything out. And, well, it's nothing bad, but--]
Well, I guess I did take some. [But he opens the first one and--well, it's Papyrus cooking in a kitchen with a way too tall sink. From a somewhat lower angle than Papyrus's photos of himself, but still.]
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farmer sans... reminded of all the oira art
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this icon: obligatory
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