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[Papyrus is in the middle of washing dishes, but even the sound of water and music aren't enough for him not to hear - even with the sound coming from somewhere in his chest. He turns at his brother's voice, eye sockets briefly flashing with reflected light as the living room catches just so, and the music quickly turns down.]

Oh, hey! Welcome back. And doubly, happy birthday! [He reaches for the faucet, turning the water off, before wiping his gloves off with a dry rag.] I did do some cooking... But, also, gathered all the takeout menus into that convenient basket! Pick whatever you're in the mood for. [You know, so they can avoid having the conversation about food again.]

You know you didn't have to put up a banner and everything. [Sans says, knowing that's pointless to say because Papyrus would have done it anyway and Sans doesn't actually mind. It's nice, really. He pokes through the convenient basket; by now he's got his favorite places, of course, but he knows how Papyrus feels about Sans's favorite (greasiest) places.] How about this? [It's something like Panera, with its mix of single-serve flatbread pizzas and soups in bread bowls but also fancy sandwiches with avocados and other such healthy options.]

[Pointless indeed, enough that Papyrus makes a few obligatory scoffing noises as he continues sorta drying his gloves. But he otherwise nods along to his music until Sans holds the menu up, and leans in to examine the choice.]

It looks... fine? Not what I expected. [Not any of Sans's favorite greasiest places, by any stretch of the imagination. It's one that Papyrus picks out, sometimes.] Wait, why are you asking me?? It's not my double birthday!! [This is one of the few sanctioned grease days, Sans!]

Edited (/samll) 2021-11-03 08:13 (UTC)

I thought you might want a smoothie or something. [Or maybe Sans has kind of gotten into the habit of picking places Papyrus finds acceptable whenever Papyrus happens to be around. He hops up onto the counter to sit with a flap of his wings making the jump easier on him. He hasn't yet worked out how to do a full takeoff from standing still, but the counter isn't too high. It's a surprisingly economical motion, but considering how wide his wingspan is, it sort of has to be in the kitchen. He grabs a second, much greasier option from the basket. Still pizza, though. Sans wants pizza, just in general, be it flatbread or greasebread.] If you don't want anything, then I'm goin' with this.

Oh! I appreciate the though. [It takes him by surprise and a smile, before he shifts into bragging:] But, I already have a smoothie! Cooling in the fridge right now. You must have thought of that, because you recognized the smell! On some level. I got a little experimental.

[Among the items still in the sink is the blender with PAPYRUS ONLY carved into it in several places. There's a suspiciously yellow-green substance coating its inside. In the middle of a birthday celebration may not be the best time for testing out new and exciting battery acid smoothie flavor combinations, but here they are.]

...And, uh, other food, that I like. In anticipation of not wanting anything from where you order! But it's your birthday, so you're entitled. [Other days, he'll get back to complaining.]

[Sans can see that blender. Between that and Papyrus describing it as experimental, Sans just hopes it doesn't explode battery acid all over the refrigerator. But it's probably fine. Sans grabs his phone to order the greasiest possible pizza, then.] Well, if you're gonna twist my arm. [Sans is going to order a pizza big enough for him to have leftovers to eat for breakfast and take to work tomorrow. It's a healthy change from the breakfast candy. Also, a soda.] So, are we waiting for food before we get the present train rolling, or are we going ahead now?

[It's Sans's birthday, so you'd think he'd be the one making these choices, and yet he is leaving it up to Papyrus. This is normal, though.]

The present train is ready and waiting for whenever! [Normal, and yet, some corner of him keeps feeling the need to nudge Sans to decide things. It's his 'birthday,' after all. Or something like that. It's no day to be sedate! Papyrus isn't impatient to get started, exactly, but there's an extra energy in his step as he heads to the fridge to check the glass of 'citrus' smoothie for its temperature. Still a little warm... It can wait some more. He settles for grabbing a couple leftover cans of monster soda from Halloween, and closes the fridge.]

If you don't need food to get started... We can roll now! [After all, they didn't wait for food with his 'birthday' party. Why not get right into the gifts, and then continue enjoying their existence alongside food?]

Works for me. [Sans hops down off the counter, his wings stretching a little to account for balance. Of course, just as soon as his feet hit the floor, he vanishes entirely to reappear sitting on the couch, making the whole motion of jumping down entirely irrelevant. He stretches a wing out in front of him, smoothing out the feathers as he waits for Papyrus to walk to the couch the normal way. It's about as prim a habit as Sans has ever had. He grins when he sees Papyrus walk into the hallway.]

Wow, bro, what took you so long?

[It's a classic Sans move. Too classic for Papyrus to have any doubt where to find him. By any sensible standards it's brief seconds before he makes it to the living room, so he rolls his eye sockets at the question and scoffs without hesitating.]

I was enjoying the scenery. You know, all my great decorations?? You might have missed them, rushing over like this. [While he complains, he sets the cans down on the table - one deliberately within Sans's reach - and considers his brother. That wing cleaning habit, odd and new and fastidious... He wonders, sometimes, whether the feathers itch, if that's why all the fidgeting with them. They seem to be half of Sans's exercise these days, though, so he doesn't want to stare at them. Instead he settles on his side of the couch, the presents on the table between them. Three are stacked in something of a pyramid, and one's just sitting on the floor, more than two feet tall.]

You didn't have to get all this stuff, y'know. [Not that Sans even knows what's in these yet. With one last smoothing motion he lets go of his wing and it settles into place behind him as he reaches for the top of the pyramid. Might as well work his way through those before he deals with whatever's in the big one.]

Didn't I? I'm not about to let this place settle into an unfestive lack of decor. [Papyrus scoffs, again, more pointedly. He suspects full well that Sans means the presents rather than the plastic stars by 'all this stuff,' but he's choosing not to respond to the possibility. It's a birthday, presents happen. And even if he didn't need to, well, Papyrus is all the greater for having chosen to do something he didn't have to do.

The top of the pyramid is a flat box, maybe six inches square and half an inch tall. If shaken, something like cardboard shifts around. Opened, it turns out to be a regular birthday card - closing an envelope being a challenge for skeletons. The writing inside reads:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! THIS PRESENT IS IN ANOTHER LOCATION.
AND ALSO ISN'T AVAILABLE UNTIL IT'S DARK.
BE PATIENT!!!
- PAPYRUS

Papyrus looks unhelpfully amused about it, having been the one to stack the presents like this.]

Well, you should leave the stars up. [Sans's smile quirks into something a little more real as he makes note of the star theme and reads the card. Of course Papyrus would do something like this.] Are you going to make me do puzzles on my birthday? [But Sans is already reaching for the next one even as he puts the card down next to him. The next one he grabs is bottom one closest to where he's sitting, of course, because he's lazy.]

Maybe! If waiting is a puzzle. Or poses a puzzling conundrum. [Come to think of it, with the first-last gift requiring night to really show off, it could be a little bit of a challenge. But he's sure he can always hassle Sans into waking up enough.

In the meantime, the middle gift is heavy enough to slide off with a small thud as Sans lifts the bottom gift. Papyrus winces slightly at the noise, but there's no other worrying sounds with it, so he doesn't protest. The bottom gift is relatively light weight for its size - several inches tall and over a foot wide in both directions. No particular noise if shaken, as if its contents fill the box. Within is a folded blanket, with a wired remote and a plug - a heated blanket.]

Good choice! Sure to make the rest of your gift opening comfortable.

[Sans is quick to fling the blanket haphazardly over his wings (he'll have to preen them again later). It's only a few moments before he gets it set up, but once it's started heating up, Sans remembers all over again how early it gets dark out lately. He could absolutely crash on the couch like this; his wings soak up heat incredibly well.]

How about I just take a nap break real quick? [It would not be real quick. He will grab for the last one on the table before Papyrus huffs at him too much.]

Oh my god. [Usually that might come in some flavor of outrage - today, it's closer to amused resignation. Papyrus rolls his eye sockets plenty, lights again reflecting off the lenses, and settles back away from the heat.] If you're fine with cold pizza, I won't stop you!

[Rather than continue mocking Sans's choices of food or slumber, he opens the soda near him and sticks a straw in it before sipping at it. The last gift on the table is a little smaller than the blanket box, only about a foot on two sides. Heavier, with something inside that shifts a little as it's handled - but not much, due to some materials bracing it in place. Unwrapped, it's revealed to be an electronic sun lamp. The labeling on the box brags about its natural daylight spectrum light, its benefits on mood and depression, and the various adjustable settings.]

Edited (lol small tags) 2021-11-03 12:07 (UTC)

Cold pizza's an important part of pizza. [But instead Sans opens up the next gift. As soon as he sees what it is, Sans has the strangest urge to set it up and turn it on immediately. Well, if Papyrus wants him to wait until night for that other present, it might not be a bad idea.] Hey, this is pretty cool. [But also if it's a sun lamp it's probably warm? Sans is going to be so warm, this is great. (It being apparently good for depression is probably also a plus, but a plus Sans is not going to trust without trying it out for a while.)

There's one more present to open. Sans gets up reluctantly, taking his blanket with him. It's very comfortable and he isn't ready to get out from under the warmth, even if the cord probably isn't that long. It's not like the last box is that far away.]

I guess they must be pretty effective! Since I've never heard of one winding up in the dump. [You know, the dump back underground. He's had more than enough dumpster diving experience here to see patterns in what the humans throw out when, and it's usually things that aren't very good and things that are broken.

The cord does reach 10', and one of Papyrus's home wiring projects has been making more outlets more accessible. It should reach, if the cord doesn't get caught on the table or the couch arm or anything - and Papyrus reaches across the couch to help make sure it doesn't. The gift is, as might be expected from the size, the heaviest yet. The box is scribbled all over with sharpie, and within... There's a used laptop, with some hints of scuffs and dents to the casing, that weighs several pounds. And there's a folded up box, emptied of its main contents but a paper manual and some spare parts still included, of a digital telescope.]

This! Happens to be! A sneak preview, of the gift you can't view yet. [On account of the sun still being out, even if it's getting low in the sky.]

[Sans pulls the laptop out curiously, followed by the folded up box. His eyelights spark with that delight he reserves for star-related activities. Even the spare parts get looked over, though Sans is obviously trying to do his best not to just squirrel himself away under his new blanket and look through the paper manual.] Papyrus-- [How much did he spend on all this? But If Sans says Papyrus shouldn't have spent a lot of money on him Papyrus is just going to scoff at him, in his brotherly Papyrus-y way.] Thanks, bro. [His tone is grossly sincere, in his own estimation.]

You're welcome! I hope you get plenty of starwatching time with it. [Between Sans's dangerously sincere happiness, and the lack of pushback about any of it, Papyrus is visibly pleased with himself. An expression that escalates, as he goes on to explain:] It's a 'beginner' telescope, so it should be enough for the local planets... But, not impossibly distant ones.[See, Sans, it's not ludicrously expensive.]

That laptop... is a laptop, but also, it has the program for running the telescope! And seeing what it sees. Wheeeeen it has power, because, as a digital 'scope, it only works when the electricity's on. [The smugness might be strong enough to feel empathically. A gift of stars that circumvents that whole impulse to do anything with the power grid - they can have their cake and eat it too.]

As usual, you're a genius. [Papyrus is so cool. Sans makes sure the laptop is in reach of the couch before he returns to it, skimming over the manual even as he settles in.] It says you can see nebulas with this thing. I'm gonna show you all the coolest ones. [Which is most of them, as far as Sans is concerned, but that's not the point.] I bet Jupiter and Saturn'll show up pretty good too. [To say nothing of closer objects, like Mars or the moon. Sans is going to look at so many things and then force Papyrus to also look at these things.]

[Papyrus doesn't preen in the bird way that Sans does, but there's a certain contentment to his smugness now. Even with the promise/threat to shove many images of stars in his face.]

If you find any nebulas shaped like me, I demand we petition to rename them. And also, print out some pictures to stick on the fridge. [And then the star stuff will really be spreading out through the house... But that's not so bad. It could be something spookier spreading out.]

Sounds like a good idea to me. [The petitioning or the pictures? Maybe both. Of course, they can't look at nebulas yet, so Sans reaches with a couple of his invisible hands to open the box for that sun lamp while he keeps reading over the telescope manual. There's a pause, though, as Sans remembers his halo still has its cast and he can't multitask like that without his extra eyes. He guesses he'll put the manual down for a second to set up the lamp.] Maybe we could print out some stickers. [Space stickers. That probably requires special paper and/or a printer and/or ink though.]

[Papyrus notes the pause, but doesn't connect the dots - it just looks like Sans not wanting to put the book down, as a part of general space enthusiasm. He doesn't move to help with the sun lamp, though, as he's still keeping a distance from that heated blanket. He doesn't need the sound of internal fans going crazy with trying to cool him.]

Some stickers, huh...? Why stickers? [He assumes for his idea of decorating the fridge with their finds, but doesn't see a problem with more conventional adhesives, like tape.]

[Sans takes the cord in one of his invisible hands to plug it in, at least, in the time-honored tradition of blindly flailing at a wall in the general direction of where you know an outlet is until you can find it by feel. The light is bright, which really shouldn't come as a surprise, but Sans has to angle it a little to better accommodate neither of them being blinded by it. He stretches one of his wings out from under the blanket, experimenting with how the lamp feels on them.]

To stick 'em on stuff. [A vague answer which definitely actually means "for pranks". Sans wants to stick them on Papyrus at least once.

Sans doesn't really notice, but as the sun lamp does its thing, he does visibly perk up from "could probably start getting ready for bed" to "hanging out in the middle of the day". He won't admit he's more sensitive to the times of day here, but his body will.]

Edited (you always find typos AFTER you hit post) 2021-11-05 06:03 (UTC)

Stuff, huh? [Papyrus just looks at him, in a resigned and knowing stare. What a familiarly suspicious vagueness.] Well! Good luck finding some! I will not be helping you, because. I have already gotten you plenty of things. This is the limit of my gifting. You'll just have to wait a while!!

[It's like it's another patience puzzle, except this time it's a patience and/or effort puzzle. Sans can make all the effort involved in it, to hopefully save Papyrus the trouble of scraping sticker residue off his metallic parts. Especially since that's most of them.]

every now and then i'm freshly reminded of distressing papyrus facts, like his gloves

the distressing (for others) life of papyrus

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